CAMPAIGNING  IN  THE  BALKANS 


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£AmMGNlNG 
INTHEBAIMNS 

BY 

Lieutenant  Harold  LaKe 

01  =T^^(i/fc^  ■     '         ^ 


NEW  YORK 

Robert  M.  McBride  &  Company 
1918 


Copyright   1918 

by 

ROBERT  M.    McBRIDE  CT  COMPANY 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America. 


Published   September.    I9I8 


CONTENTS 

PART  I 

CHAPTER                                                                                               PAGE 

I. 

The  Bulgar  on  the  Hill        .       .       .       i 

IL 

Roads  and  Their  Making 

14 

III. 

The   Seres  Road 

27 

IV. 

"Peace-Time  Soldiering" 

39 

V. 

Marching  by   Night 

. 

. 

50 

VI. 

Concerning  War 

60 

VII. 

Our  Houses  and  Tin 

69 

VIIL 

Rations  and  the  Dump    . 

79 

IX. 

Heat  and  Some  Animals 

91 

X. 

Sundays  at  the  War     . 

.    lOI 

XL 

Playtime  in  Macedonia  . 

.   no 

XII. 

How  We  Went  to  Janes 

.     121 

XIII. 

Concerning  Spies     . 

.     135 

XIV. 

Our  Feasting     . 

.    145 

XV. 

Mosquitoes  and  Malaria 

.    153 

XVI. 

These  Are  the  Heroes    . 

.    163 

XVII. 

The  Way  Out  of  the  Land 

.     173 

PART   II 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    The  Prelude i88 

II.  The  Balkans  and  the  War   .       .       .  201 

III.  The  Importance  of  Salonika        .       .  212 

IV.  Peace  in  the  Balkans    ....  220 


VI 


PART  I 
CHAPTER  I 

THE  BULGAR  ON   THE   HILL 

THERE  is  a  hill  which  rises  to  the  north  of 
the  small  and  ugly  village  of  Ambarkoj, 
which  in  its  turn  is  twelve  miles  north  of 
Salonika.  It  is  not  a  particularly  impressive  hill, 
but  it  happens  to  command  a  good  view  of  the 
country  for  many  miles  around,  so  I  climbed  to  the 
top  of  it,  uncomfortably  enough  by  reason  of  the 
tangle  of  evergreen  oak,  the  harsh  edges  of  the 
rock,  and  the  thickets  of  brambles.  Right  on  the 
summit  I  found  all  that  the  birds  and  beasts  and 
sun  and  storm  of  Macedonia  had  left  of  a  man  who 
must  have  fallen  in  one  of  the  half-forgotten  wars 
which  have  troubled  the  land.  There  were  the 
scattered  bones.  Rags  of  clothing  were  embedded 
in  the  ground.  Close  at  hand  a  couple  of  clips  of 
cartridges  proved  that  he  had  fallen  in  the  midst 
of  his  fight.  There  was  the  merest  remnant  of 
his  cap,  and  there  was  a  button  which  showed  him 
to  have  been  a  Bulgarian.    His  rifle  had  been  taken 


CAJVTPAIiGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

away  jut  the  rest  had  been  left  as  it  fell,  left  to 
remain  through  the  years,  to  be  a  symbol  and 
token  of  all  that  land  which  one  could  see  standing 
there  beside  the  tangled  rubbish  which  used  to  be 
a  man. 

It  is  hard  to  think  of  a  better  place  than  that 
for  the  beginning  of  some  account  of  the  country 
of  which  so  many  tens  of  thousands  of  our  men 
are  gaining  an  intimate  knowledge,  and  of  their 
difficulties  and  sufferings  and  achievements.  From 
that  high  place  it  is  possible  to  see  all  the  different 
kinds  of  land  which  go  to  make  up  Macedonia,  and 
to  remember  all  the  problems  which  mountain,  valley, 
and  plain  present.  And  those  forgotten  bones  were 
the  witness  of  the  history  of  the  country,  of  all 
that  past  conduct  of  its  affairs,  of  all  its  custom 
and  habit — of  all  those  things  which  are  producing 
so  direct  an  effect  on  our  life  today.  It  may  not 
appear  that  there  is  an  connection  between  a  dead 
Bulgarian  on  a  little  hill  three  thousand  miles 
away  and  the  war-time  price  of  sugar  in  England, 
and  yet  the  connection  exists,  and  will  be  made 
plain  later  on. 

If  you  were  to  stand  where  I  was  standing  and 
face  the  north,  you  would  have  on  your  left  a  great 
plain  rolling  away  to  a  blue  wall  of  distant  moun- 
tains in  the  west.  Immediately  before  you,  but 
still  a  little  to  the  left,  you  would  see  a  line  of 
trees  and  a  fresh  green  in  the  herbage  which  would 


THE    BULGAR    ON    THE    HILL 

prove  the  presence  of  water  with  occasional 
owamps.  Due  north  and  on  all  the  right  would  be 
the  hills,  some  of  them  smooth  and  gentle,  some 
of  them  great  gray  mountains.  Between  them  you 
would  find  the  little  valleys,  and  the  occasional 
habitations  of  men. 

One  valley  there  is  in  particular.  It  lies  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill  which,  indeed,  closes  the  southern 
end  of  it.  From  the  line  where  the  evergreen  oak 
ends  it  sweeps  downward  very  gently  and  deli- 
cately for  about  a  couple  of  miles  to  where  a  tiny 
village  stands  at  the  foot  of  its  eastern  slope,  and 
then  winds  out  of  sight  round  a  westerly  bend. 
On  either  side  it  is  fenced  by  considerable  hills. 
They  rise  about  it,  very  grim  and  forbidding.  It 
is  not  an  easy  valley  to  enter  from  any  direction, 
and  in  consequence  it  has  all  the  appearance  of 
prosperity  and  comfort.  The  soil  is  cultivated. 
There  are  the  wide  fields  of  maize,  and  the  great 
patches  of  tobacco.  In  one  part  of  it  I  found  a 
whole  series  of  plots  given  over  to  funny  little 
plants  which  made  me  realize  for  the  first  time 
that  the  tomato  and  the  vegetable  marrow  are 
very  closely  related  to  each  other.  There  is  abun- 
dant pasture.  Two  small  square  towers  of  whitish 
brick  mark  the  presence  of  springs,  and  all  the 
appearance  of  the  ground  proves  that  you  could 
find  water  anywhere  by  sinking  a  well  twenty  feet 
deep  or  less.     The  houses  of  the  village  have  a 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

settled,  established  appearance,  very  unlike  that 
of  the  flimsy  mud-plastered  hovels  of  Ambarkoj. 
It  looks  like  a  place  where  the  generations  have 
followed  each  other  in  peace,  and  that  is  very 
unusual  in  Macedonia.  The  bones  of  the  dead 
Bulgarian  are  there  to  explain  why  such  tran- 
quillity is  unusual;  the  sheltering  hills  give  the 
reason  for  the  happiness  of  this  one  village. 

All  that  delightful  valley  is  a  picture  of  what 
Macedonia  might  be,  and  the  most  insistent  re- 
minder of  what  it  is  not.  Even  the  people  are 
different.  Wandering  down  the  length  of  it  one 
day  I  found  two  women  and  a  man  working  in 
the  fields,  with  two  great  black  pigs  frisking  and 
gamboling  round  them  like  a  couple  of  terriers. 
I  asked  some  question  about  water,  and  they  stood 
up  and  answered  to  the  best  of  their  power,  frankly 
and  courteously.  The  day  after,  in  another  village 
across  the  hills  and  down  in  the  plain  three  miles 
to  the  west,  I  tried  to  buy  some  eggs,  and  met 
with  nothing  but  glum  silence,  averted  eyes  and 
closed  doors.  They  were  the  people  of  the  plain, 
whose  homes  lay  open  and  defenceless;  they  were 
a  people  accustomed  to  war. 

As  the  village  of  the  hills  stands  for  what  Mace- 
donia might  be,  so  does  Karadza  Kadi,  the  village 
of  the  plain,  stand  for  what  it  is.  It  is  a  village 
which  knows  and  obeys  the  law  of  that  war- 
troubled  land.    The  homes  of  its  people  are  poor. 


THE     BULGAR     ON     THE     HILL 

mean  structures  with  never  a  hint  or  trace  of 
beauty  or  security  about  them.  If  they  were  burnt 
down  and  destroyed  it  would  be  no  great  loss,  for 
they  could  be  rebuilt  so  easily.  All  around  stretch 
the  miles  of  utterly  fertile  land,  but  only  tiny 
patches  are  cultivated.  The  approach  to  the  village 
might  easily  be  made  into  a  good  safe  road  but 
it  is  left  a  wretched,  half-obliterated  track  swamped 
with  water  and  mud  at  every  time  of  rain. 

For  this  is  the  law  of  Macedonia,  that  you  shall 
not  build  yourself  a  secure  and  costly  home  which 
your  enemy  may  at  any  time  destroy  or  take  for 
himself;  you  shall  not  plant  great  fields  or  any 
more  than  is  strictly  necessary  for  yourself  lest 
your  enemy  come  and  reap  your  rich  harvest;  you 
shall  not  make  an  easy  road  to  your  home  lest  your 
enemy  come  down  it  swiftly  to  your  destruction. 
It  is  better  and  safer  to  have  so  poor  a  house  that 
it  is  not  worth  the  burning,  so  small  a  crop  that 
it  is  not  worth  the  gathering,  so  painful  a  road 
that  it  is  not  worth  the  traveling.  The  dead  Bul- 
garian explained  all  these  things.  The  poor  con- 
fusion of  his  bones  was  the  witness  that  this  coun- 
try has  not  ceased  to  be  ravaged  by  war,  that  it 
has  known  no  accustomed  peace,  that  its  people 
have  not  dared  to  surround  themselves  with  those 
permanent  things  which  are  the  mark  of  happier 
lands. 

There   can  be,  one   imagines,   few  more   fertile 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

countries  in  the  world,  and  few  indeed  in  Europe. 
All  sorts  of  rare,  desirable  things  will  grow  on  its 
soil  in  splendid  profusion.  Maize  is  a  most  flourish- 
ing crop.  Tobacco  is  grown  here  which  is  valued 
all  over  the  world.  Such  things  as  the  little  grapes 
which  are  turned  into  currants  and  raisins  thrive 
on  the  hillsides,  and  there  are  the  plantations  from 
which  comes  attar  of  roses.  There  does  not  appear 
to  be  any  end  to  the  possibilities  of  Macedonia. 
Civilized  nations  spend  millions  in  reclaiming  land 
in  far  countries,  in  clearing  it  of  swamps,  mosqui- 
toes and  malaria,  in  perfecting  systems  of  drainage 
and  irrigation,  and  yet  here  is  this  rich  land,  in 
Europe  itself,  barren  and  desolate,  given  over  to 
thistles  and  scrub,  with  the  poison  of  fever  haunt- 
ing every  valley,  with  miserable  tracks  instead  of 
roads — wasted  altogether. 

For  Macedonia  today  is  not  very  far  from  being 
a  wilderness.  Before  the  army  came  to  Salonika 
there  was  scarcely  a  road  worthy  of  the  name 
between  the  sea  and  the  Bela  Sitza  range  and  the 
Struma.  There  are  the  hundreds  of  square  miles 
that  might  be  so  busy  growing  food  for  man  and 
beast,  and  they  grow  nothing  but  thistles.  The 
hillsides  might  be  rich  with  vineyards,  and  they 
are  desolate  with  evergreen  oak.  There  is  Avater 
everywhere,  and  it  is  allowed  to  serve  a  little 
space  and  then  to  wander  aimlessly  to  the  sea. 
There  might  be  herds  of  great  cattle  and  mighty 


THE     BULGAR     ON     THE     HILL 

flocks  of  sheep,  but  all  you  shall  find  is  a  few 
tiny  cows,  a  few  attenuated  goats,  and  a  few 
scraggy,  fieshless  sheep.  Each  wretched  village 
worries  along  as  best  it  may,  a  self-contained  com- 
munity, having  little  traffic  with  the  outer  world. 
And  between  the  Tillages  there  sweep  the  miles 
of  the  wasted  land.  Wasted  because  here  is  no 
security  of  tenure,  no  consecutive  rule,  no  assur- 
ance that  he  who  sows  shall  also  reap.  Wasted 
because  it  is  a  country  where  you  may  find  the 
bones  of  the  dead  on  the  tops  of  little  hills. 

And  in  addition  to  being  wasted,  the  country  is 
poisonous.  In  every  low-lying,  swampy  area  the 
mosquito  finds  an  admirable  home  prepared;  and 
there  arises  the  problem  of  malaria.  Modern 
science  understnds  how  to  deal  with  that  problem. 
Macedonia  could  be  cleared  of  it  as  other  countries 
have  been  cleared.  Drainage  and  the  discipline  of 
fire  would  make  the  country  free — only  there  has 
been  no  one  sufficiently  interested  in  the  country 
to  take  the  matter  up.  The  natives,  I  suppose, 
are  accustomed  to  fever,  or  perhaps  they  develop 
immunity.  No  one  from  the  outride  has  been 
attracted  to  the  place.  Even  the  wildest  American 
millionaire  would  shrink  from  working  out  de- 
velopment schemes  in  a  country  compared  with 
which  the  average  South  American  republic  is  a 
model  of  stable  and  constitutional  government. 
People  have  been  fighting  in  and  for  and  about 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

Macedonia  from  the  dawn  of  history,  and  so  we 
have  it  as  it  is  today. 

That  such  a  land  should  be  in  such  a  condition 
is  a  fact  that  arouses  a  very  bitter  kind  of  anger. 
Few  of  us,  perhaps,  have  brought,  or  will  bring, 
pleasant  memories  away  from  it,  but  that  is  the 
fault,  not  of  the  land,  but  of  the  circumstances 
which  have  made  it  what  it  is.  And  in  spite  of  the 
things  we  endured  in  it,  we  shall  probably  remem- 
ber as  the  years  pass  by  that  it  is  a  country  which 
has  great  beauty,  grandeur,  and  an  appealing  love- 
liness, as  one  moves  from  place  to  place  and  learns 
all  the  variety  of  it.  We  shall  remember  again 
the  wooded  slopes  of  Kotos,  Ajvasil  resting  so 
happily  on  the  border  of  the  lake,  the  dim  moun- 
tains that  hide  Fort  Rupel,  and  the  little  streams 
that  run  in  secret  valleys.  We  shall  remember 
such  things  as  these;  perhaps  we  shall  forget  the 
unpleasant  facts.  But  those  unpleasant  facts  are 
the  things  which  have  to  be  remembered  at  this 
time,  and  in  any  future  considering  of  the  Salonika 
campaign;  for  they  have  the  power  to  condition 
and  to  limit  every  operation  that  has  been  or  will 
be  planned.  They  are  more  potent  to  hinder  than 
all  the  strength  of  the  enemy.  When  our  rulers 
decided  on  the  expedition  they  opened  war  not 
against  man  alone,  but  also  against  Nature — 
Nature  neglected,  misused,  spurned.  The  genera- 
tions to  come  may  ask  why  they  added  such  a 

8 


THE     BULGAR    ON     THE     HILL 

task  to  the  burden  we  were  already  bearing.  It  is 
not  my  business  to  ask  that  question,  but — the  fact 
must  be  borne  in  mind,  for  if  it  is  not  remembered 
there  may  be  heavy  injustice  to  those  who  were 
charged  to  carry  out  the  adventure. 

An  army  is  a  large  and  complex  thing  with  in- 
numerable needs.  If  you  send  it  to  any  distant 
place  you  must  either  be  prepared  to  supply  those 
needs  or  else  be  very  certain  that  they  can  be 
supplied  on  the  spot.  Whether  or  not  the  fact 
was  realized,  one  cannot  say,  but  a  fact  it  is  that 
scarcely  a  single  need  of  our  army  in  Macedonia^ 
can  be  supplied  on  the  spot.  I  cannot,  indeed,  re- 
member a  single  article  that  was  bought  in  large 
quantities  from  the  inhabitants  except  forage. 
That  was  rounded  up  and  stacked — under  guard — 
at  convenient  places,  but  there  was  little  or  nothing 
besides. 

The  land  has  no  food  to  give  us.  The  great 
spaces  which  might  have  grown  corn  are,  as  I  have 
said,  busy  with  thistles.  The  cattle  are  so  scarce 
and  of  such  shocking  quality  that  if  the  army  had 
begun  to  eat  them  they  would  have  been  extinct 
in  a  week  and  the  troops  would  have  been  mutin- 
ously demanding  bully  beef.  All  our  corn  and 
meat  came,  and  still  must  come,  across  the  perilous 
sea.  There  were,  of  course,  such  trifles  as  melons, 
eggs  and  tomatoes  and  occasional  fowls,  but  all 
that  Macedonia  can  give  us  to  eat  is  the  merest 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

drop  in  the  bucket.  Every  fresh  battalion  that  is 
sent  to  Salonika  means  that  more  ships  must  bring 
food  behind  it,  and  keep  on  bringing  it  so  long 
as  it  remains  there. 

And  not  food  alone,  but  everything  else  which 
an  army  can  possibly  require.  Guns  and  ammuni- 
tion must  be  brought  as  a  matter  of  course,  but 
there  must  be  also  all  clothing,  every  detail  of 
equipment,  tools  for  every  imaginable  purpose, 
materials  for  putting  up  wire  entanglements — 
there  is  not  enough  wood  in  the  country  to  form 
the  uprights — and  all  sorts  of  hospital  stores. 
Paper,  pens  and  pencils,  books,  bacon,  baths,  soap, 
icandles,  tobacco,  matches — all  such  things  must 
be  brought  across  the  sea.  Galvanized  iron, 
wagons,  mules,  telephone  wire,  water  buckets  and 
bivouac  sheets — every  imaginable  thing.  For  the 
one  thing  certain  about  Macedonia  is  that  you  will 
not  find  in  the  country  anything  that  you  want. 

The  relation  between  the  dead  Bulgar  and  the  price 
of  sugar  in  England  is,  perhaps,  becoming  apparent. 
Because  so  many  ships  are  busy  carrying  things 
to  the  Salonika  army  there  are  the  fewer  to  fetch 
and  carry  for  the  people  at  home ;  the  traffic  of  the 
seas  is  diverted,  and  Britain  has  to  put  up  with 
the  consequences.  But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  Mace- 
donia in  the  past  had  been  free  from  war,  with 
power  to  fulfill  its  own  enormous  possibilities,  half 
the     stuff     required     might     have     been     bought 

10 


THE     BULGAR    ON     THE     HILL 

on     the     spot,     and     half     the     transport     saved. 

But  that,  after  all,  is  a  side  issue.  The  problems 
of  sea  transport  are  the  problems  of  the  people 
who  sent  us  there.  My  concern  is  only  with  our 
own  problems,  those  interesting  puzzles  which 
began  as  soon  as  the  stuff  reached  the  wharves  at 
Salonika,  and  which  do  continually  perplex  and 
worry  all  sorts  of  people,  high  and  low,  and  must 
be  the  greatest  trouble  General  Sarrail  has  ever 
known.  For  we  came  to  a  country  without  roads, 
and  undertook  to  push  armies  into  that  country 
along  tracks  radiating  as  do  the  sticks  of  a  fan. 
A  country  without  bridges  also,  and  one  in  which 
the  most  innocent  trickle  of  a  stream  may  whirl 
up  into  a  great  river  in  the  course  of  an  afternoon. 
A  country  where  a  way  had  to  be  found  across 
swamps,  and  over  great  hills — a  way  where  no 
way  had  been  before. 

And  a  modern  army  cannot  be  content  with 
mere  tracks,  trodden  down  though  they  may  be 
by  bare  feet  and  unshod  bullocks  through  the 
years.  A  modern  army  has  heavy,  cumbersome 
things  to  carry  with  it — great  guns,  ammunition 
limlbers  and  the  rest.  These  heavy  things  drive 
the  tires  into  the  ground  till  at  last  a  swamp  is 
reached  which  cries  a  halt  to  all  adventuring. 
Moreover,  a  modern  army  in  a  wilderness  has  to 
be  fed.  If  it  will  advance,  then  food  must  be 
brought  up  to  it,  day  after  day.     There  must  be 

// 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

rations  enoug-h  for  all  the  men,  forage  for  all 
the  animals,  material  to  repair  all  the  inevitable 
wastage  of  war.  These  things  must  be  close  up 
to  the  troops  and  instantly  available.  They  must 
follow  close  behind  each  new  advance  if  the  ground 
once  taken  is  to  be  held.  If  its  transport  breaks 
down  the  army  is  defeated  and  must  inevitably 
retire,  or  die  most  uselessly  where  it  stands — and 
an  army  which  dies  uselessly  is  rather  worse  than 
no  army  at  all.  It  comes  to  this,  that  if  you  cannot 
keep  your  army  supplied  you  must  not  send  it 
forward. 

That  was  the  first  problem  of  the  Salonika  expe- 
dition, and  it  is  still  and  will  always  be  the  chief 
difficulty  in  the  way.  Standing  there  beside  that 
dead  Bulgar  one  could  realize  it  all  so  clearly. 
jTransport  was  not  so  great  a  difficulty  when  he 
lived  and  died.  Heavy  artillery  was  not  of  the 
first  importance  and,  to  a  considerable  extent, 
armies  could  live  on  the  land  which  they  occupied. 
A  man  could  go  out  with  his  ammunition  and  his 
rifle  and  a  loaf  of  bread  and  do  his  work  for  days 
on  end.  His  campaigning  did  not  call  for  well- 
made  roads  and  strings  of  motor  lorries.  It  was  a 
simple  matter  of  skirmishing  men,  of  good  shoot- 
ing, and  desperate  unrecorded  little  conflicts. 

But  that  old  order  has  changed.  The  Bulgar 
of  today  digs  himself  excellent  trenches  from  which 
he  must  be  shelled  with  heavy  guns.    To  aid  him 

12 


THE     BULGAR     ON     THE    HILL 

he  has  all  sorts  of  German  guns,  brought  up  along 
carefully  prepared  roads  to  the  selected  positions. 
For  a  defence  he  has  the  almost  impassable  country 
before  him,  so  that  he  can  deal  at  leisure  with  his 
enemies  as  they  advance  to  the  attack.  That,  at 
least,  was  the  state  of  things  at  the  beginning  of 
the  Salonika  adventure. 


CHAPTER  II 

ROADS  AND  THEIR   MAKING 

EASTWARD  from  Salonika  runs  the  road 
which  leads  at  last  to  Stavros  and  all  the 
land  which  controls  the  mouth  of  the  Struma.  Some 
five  miles  out  from  the  town  it  passes  through  the 
village  of  Kireckoj. 

It  is  a  fine  road,  one  of  the  best  whcih  the  army 
has  made  in  all  the  country.  Broad  and  smooth 
it  sweeps  onward  and  upward,  threading  the  val- 
leys which  lead  at  last  to  the  Hortiack  plateau. 
But  when  it  comes  to  Kireckoj  it  is  beaten  alto- 
gether, forced  to  remember  that  it  is  in  Macedonia 
and  most  unkindly  reminded  that  it  cannot  behave 
as  a  road  might  in  a  civilized  country.  I  shall 
never  forget  the  surprise  and  amusement  and 
understanding  which  came  in  due  succession  when 
first  I  marched  up  that  road  and  encountered  that 
obstructive  village. 

We  had  been  coming  so  freely  and  easily,  with 
room  to  spare  for  the  passing  of  all  the  bustling 
motor  lorries  which  raced  to  and  fro.  The  surface 
was  so  good  that  marching  was  easy.    The  gradient 

^4 


ROADS   AND    THEIR    MAKING 

had  been  so  excellently  contrived  that  we  climbed 
without  effort  higher  and  higher  into  the  heart 
of  the  hills.  And  then  quite  suddenly  we  saw  a 
few  houses  before  us.  Our  road  disappeared  be- 
tween them,  and  a  private,  with  the  armlet  of  the 
military  police,  stepped  forward  and  stopped  our 
little  column.  In  a  little  while  we  realized  that  he 
had  a  companion  who  was  busy  at  the  side  of  the 
road  with  a  telephone.  Presently  another  body  of 
marching  men  appeared,  and  when  they  had  passed 
we  were  told  that  we  might  go  on. 

We  passed  between  the  houses  of  Kireckoj.  Our 
fine,  broad  road  had  vanished,  strangled  in  mid- 
career.  In  its  place  we  had  a  narrow,  winding 
track  that  worked  a  zig-zag  course  upwards  and 
onwards.  If  we  met  a  little  native  cart  we  had  to 
pass  it  in  single  file.  How  motor  lorries  ever  con- 
trive to  get  through  the  place  I  cannot  imagine. 
It  must  be  a  far  longer  and  more  trying  perform- 
ance than  the  rest  of  the  five-mile  run  to  Salonika,  yet 
scores  of  them  accomplish  it  daily.  When  at  last 
we  came  out  at  the  other  end  and  recovered  our 
road  we  found  another  policeman  and  another  tele- 
phone operator  stationed  at  the  side  of  it,  and  then 
we  understood.  They  were  on  duty  there  all  the 
time  to  prevent  collisions  in  the  village.  They  were 
the  signalmen  of  the  road  whose  duty  it  was  to 
see  that  no  one  went  forward  from  either  end  un- 
less it  was  certain  that  the  way  was  clear. 

^5 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

There  could  not  be  a  better  illustration  of  the 
contrast  between  Macedonia  as  it  is  and  Macedonia 
as  the  warfare  of  today  requires  it  to  be,  or  as, 
indeed,  modern  civilization  requires  it  to  be.  As 
Eastern  villages  go,  Kireckoj  is  very  good  indeed. 
Planted  in  the  security  of  the  hills,  its  houses  are 
well  built  and  substantial.  It  is  quite  unusually 
clean,  its  shops  do  not  wear  the  general  Macedonian 
air  of  being  utterly  ashamed  of  themselves,  and 
its  people  appear  to  be  happy,  prosperous  and  una- 
fraid. But  there  was  that  horrid  little  winding 
street,  a  silent  witness  to  that  hatred  of  free  moye- 
ment  and  development  which  marks  the  East,  a 
barrier  to  trade  as  well  as  to  war,  the  symbol  of  a 
people  who  are  content  if  only  they  are  allowed 
to  live  in  a  close-packed  little  circle  remote  from 
the  striving  of  the  world. 

They  may  be  right,  of  course.  That  is  a  question 
with  which  I  have  no  present  coricern.  The  only 
point  of  immediate  importance  is  that  their  sym- 
bolical street  is  a  confounded  nuisance  to  soldiers 
who  have  a  war  to  worry  about.  It  was  well 
enough,  no  doubt,  in  the  days  before  artillery 
reigned  on  the  battlefield  and  hiding  carefully  be- 
hind the  corner  of  a  house  the  soldier  shot  his  less 
cautious  enemy  and  advanced  to  the  next  corner. 
But  it  is  not  at  all  well  now,  as  any  gunner  can 
testify  who  has  tried  to  take  a  battery  through 
that  serpentine  alley. 

i6 


ROADS   AND     THEIR     MAKING 

1  have  written  so  much  about  Kireckoj,  not 
because  it  is  exceptional,  but  because  it  is  so  thor- 
oughly typical.  It  is  a  village  of  the  very  best 
type,  and  yet  it  turns  the  march  of  an  army  into  a 
sort  of  inglorious  obstacle  race,  and  all  the  villages 
of  Macedonia  have  the  same  awkward  character- 
istic. I  do  not  know  one  with  a  road  running  clear 
through  from  end  to  end.  Salonika  itself  has 
streets  which   twist  and  turn   in   every   direction. 

This  was  one  of  the  facts  which  had  to  be  con- 
sidered when  the  plans  were  made  for  pushing 
the  army  forward.  It  is  natural  when  one  is 
making  a  road  in  a  new  place  to  follow  any 
existing  tracks.  Those  tracks  have  usually  been 
chosen  by  the  wisdom  of  the  centuries  because 
they  afford  the  easiest  way  of  getting  from  one 
place  to  another.  The  folly  of  men  is  certainly 
stupendous,  but  you  don't  get  people  toiling  along 
a  difficult  way  year  after  year  when  an  easier  and 
safer  way  is  open  to  them.  Therefore  it  would 
have  been  natural  for  the  new  roads  to  follow  the 
old  paths,  but  the  nature  of  these  obstructive  vil- 
lages made  such  a  simple  course  very  generally 
impossible.  In  the  particular  case  of  Kireckoj  it 
could  scarcely  be  avoided,  for  the  valley  in  which 
it  lies  is  so  narrow  and  precipitous  that  there  was 
no  room  to  swing  round  it  on  one  side  or  the 
other. 

What  sort  of  a  task  the   engineers  must  have 

^7 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

had  who  planned  the  first  roads  out  from  Salonika 
one  can  only  imagine  by  studying  the  obstacles 
which  they  avoided  or  overcame,  the  expedients 
to  which  they  were  compelled,  and  the  occasional 
awkwardness  of  their  results.  Out  in  the  country 
beyond  they  could,  of  course,  work  with  a  freer 
hand.  On  the  waste  land  between  the  villages  you 
can  put  a  road  practically  where  you  like,  and  the 
villages  themselves  can  usually  be  avoided. 

But  there,  where  there  are  no  dwellings  to  be 
respected,  no  claims  for  compensation  to  be  con- 
sidered, there  are  other  problems,  no  less  intri- 
cate and  baffling.  Nothing  but  personal  experience 
could  teach  the  unkindness  of  those  problems,  but 
any  man  who  served  for  any  length  of  time  in 
the  Salonika  army  will  remember  and  understand. 
All  of  us  had  our  turn  at  road-making  at  one  time 
or  another,  and  it  is  more  than  likely  that  all  the 
troops  at  present  in  Macedonia  or  who  may  be  sent 
there  in  the  future  will  have  the  same  tasks  to 
perform,  for  as  I  have  tried  to  insist,  roads  are 
the  first  essential.  Somehow  or  other  they  had 
to  be  made,  improvised  or  improved  as  the  army 
pushed  forward,  with  all  its  inevitable  guns  and 
lorries  and  limbers,  trailing  along  behind. 

There  is  one  stretch  of  road  in  Macedonia  which 
I  shall  be  remembering  with  mingled  hatred  and 
aflfection  all  the  days  of  my  life.  When  we  came 
to  the   place   and  pitched  our   camp   on   the   hills 

i8 


ROADS  AND    THEIR    MAKING 

above,  nothing  at  all  had  been  done.  Probably 
some  one  at  General  Headquarters  Ua-cl  drawn  a 
line  on  the  map  from  one  point  to  another  and 
said,  "Make  a  road  here,"  but  that  was  all.  The 
rest  was  left  to  us  and  the  engineers  who  were 
our  rulers  and  instructors  for  the  time  being.  It 
was  our  job,  and  we  were  to  get  on  with  as  best 
we  could. 

High  up  on  the  right  the  great  gray  hills  were 
piled;  on  the  left  ran  the  river,  with  the  wide 
plain  beyond.  When  the  engineers  went  out  to 
mark  the  track  of  the  road  they  looked  at  the 
hills  and  shook  their  heads,  went  down  to  the 
river  bed  and  shook  their  heads  again.  I  was  new 
to  Macedonia  in  those  days  and  I  had  never  seen 
one  of  the  storms  which  are  so  characteristic  of 
that  violent  country.  Also  I  was  puzzled  by  the 
fact  that  considerable  boulders  were  strewn  about 
at  the  foot  of  the  hills,  some  of  them  almost  as 
far  away  as  the  bed  of  the  river.  It  was  difficult 
to  see  how  they  had  come  to  roll  down  the  slope 
and  across  so  much  level  ground.  .  .  .  After  a 
time  I  realized  that  they  had  simply  been  swept 
along  by  the  torrents  of  water  rushing  down  the 
hills,  and  the  difficulties  of  the  engineers  began 
to  appear  even  to  me. 

They  went  to  and  fro,  those  trained  and  com- 
petent men,  studying  the  ground  with  quick,  accus- 
tomed eyes.     They  studied  the  ground  about  the 

19 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

river  till  they  had  decided  on  a  line  above  w^hich 
the  water  was  not  likely  to  rise ;  they  studied  every 
turn  and  swerve  of  the  slope  coming  down  from 
the  hills  till  they  had  found  where  the  descending 
water  would  pour  on  to  their  road,  and  where  it 
would  be  safe  from  such  attacks.  Presently  they 
were  marking  out  the  track,  and  appointing  places 
for  bridges  and  culverts,  ordaining  cuttings  and 
embankments.  There  was  a  magic  in  their  curt 
sentences  which  in  the  end  had  the  power  of  mak- 
ing one  see  the  road  as  it  would  be — as  indeed  it 
is  today — although  one  could  not  in  the  least  under- 
stand how  it  was  to  be  done,  what  material  was 
to  be  used,  where  it  was  to  come  from,  or  how 
it  was  to  be  brought  to  the  required  position.  As 
I  have  said,  I  was  new  to  Macedonia,  and  all  these 
things  were  mysteries.  I  had  not  at  that  time 
begun  to  learn  how  much  can  be  done  with  very 
little  in  the  way  of  tools  or  material. 

The  next  day  we  were  busy  opening  a  quarry. 
The  great  advantage  of  working  in  a  wilderness 
is  that  you  can  take  such  liberties  with  it.  If  you 
desire  to  remove  a  mountain  and  throw  it  into  a 
valley  it  is  not  necessary  to  get  permission  from 
the  landlord  before  you  begin.  The  engineers  chose 
a  place  in  the  hillside  and  we  set  to  work  to  clear 
away  the  scrub  and  the  thin  layer  of  earth  which 
covered  the  face  of  the  stone.  Down  below  a  space 
was  cleared  where  the  stone  could  be  stacked,  and 

20 


ROADS   AND     THEIR     MAKING 


the  chubby  youth  in  charge  of  the  operations  re- 
marked airily  that  as  soon  as  it  was  in  good  work- 
ing order  we  should  be  getting  out  a  hundred  tons 
a  day. 

If  there  is  anything  which  the  British  soldier 
cannot  do,  I  should  like  to  know  what  it  is.  Ours 
was  not  one  of  the  pioneer  battalions  which  is  sup- 
posed to  understand  such  jobs  as  this  and  draws 
extra  pay  for  doing  so.  The  men  were  just  ordin- 
ary— which  means  extraordinary — soldiers,  and 
they  set  about  their  work  as  though  they  had  been 
quarrying  all  their  lives.  There  were  the  rifles 
piled  in  ordered  ranks  on  the  ground  below  to 
prove  that  they  were  the  servants  of  another 
trade,  but  they  wrought  with  pick  and  shovel  in 
expert  fashion,  and  afterwards  with  hammer  and 
drill,  boring  for  the  charges  of  blasting  powder. 
The  holes  were  filled  and  tamped,  with  the  fuses 
in  position,  and  we  all  went  back  to  the  camp  to 
eat,  to  swallow  large  quantities  of  vigorously  chlor- 
inated water,  and  to  rest  in  such  shade  as  we  could 
find  through  those  midday  hours  when  the  sun 
seems  determined  to  burn  up  all  Macedonia.  Only 
the  engineer  remained  behind  to  light  the  fuses, 
and  the  only  victim  of  the  explosions  was  a  sorrow- 
ful sheep  which  seemed  to  have  made  a  hermitage 
for  itself  just  above  the  place  where  we  had  been 
working.    We  found  some  of  it  when  we  went  back 


21 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

■"  '  ■  '  ■ 

in  the  late  afternoon.     There  is  nothing  at  all  to 
be  said  for  Macedonian  mutton. 

Day  by  day  the  quarrying  went  on,  and  in  the 
meantime  one  of  the  engineers  had  dressed  him- 
self carefully  and  gone  in  to  Salonika  to  talk  to 
people  in  authority.  Presently  he  came  back,  and 
in  his  train  came  various  interesting,  useful  things. 
Wagons  began  to  roll  up,  carrying  little  trucks, 
lengths  of  rail,  and  more  tools.  By  the  time  we 
had  got  a  great  pile  of  stone  erected  at  the  entrance 
to  the  quarry,  another  party  was  busy  clearing  a 
track  down  to  the  road  half  a  mile  away,  fixing  the 
rails  to  sleepers,  cutting  sidings,  and  generally 
making  a  most  adequate  little  tramway.  In  less 
than  a  week  the  little  trucks  were  running  down 
the  line  filled  with  stone  which  was  emptied  into 
wagons  at  a  cunningly  contrived  loading  place  and 
carted  away  north  and  south.  The  empty  trucks 
were  hauled  back  to  the  quarry  by  mules,  and  all 
day  long  the  busy  work  went  on,  and  the  road 
took  shape  and  form  along  the  way  which  other 
toilers  had  prepared. 

We  learned  many  interesting  things  about  the 
qualities  of  the  stone  of  Macedonia  in  those  days, 
when  we  left  the  quarrying  to  others  and  proceeded 
to  become  road  makers.  But  first  we  learnt  how 
the  surface  must  be  prepared  before  the  stone  was 
put  on  it.  With  pick  and  shovel  we  attended  to 
it,  first  marking  out  the  straight  run  of  the  road, 

22 


ROADS   AND    THEIR    MAKING 

then  clearing  off  all  the  scrub  and  grass  which 
might  be  in  the  way,  and  next  digging  down  at 
each  side  and  making  a  careful  slope  up  the  center 
so  that  the  camber  might  be  all  that  could  be 
desired. 

Every  few  yards  there  were  little  drains  to  be 
cut  so  that  the  water  might  not  lie  under  the 
surface  of  our  road,  and  there  was  a  ditch  to  be 
dug  along  each  side  of  it.  All  the  little  gullies  which 
crossed  it  had  to  be  provided  with  drains — long 
wooden  tunnels  with  big  stones  packed  around 
them.  For  the  protection  of  these  drains  it  was 
necessary  to  build  breakwaters  across  the  gullies 
a  couple  of  yards  or  so  away,  piling  more  big  stones 
loosely  together,  so  that  when  the  storm  sent  a 
descending  torrent  some  of  the  force  of  it  would 
be  broken  and  it  would  only  be  able  to  trickle 
gently  through.  Then,  when  all  these  preparations 
had  been  carried  out,  the  road  itself  could  be 
attended  to  and  we  wrestled  with  the  piles  of  stone 
which  the  wagons  had  dumped  by  the  side  of  it 
while  the  watchful  engineers  walked  to  and  fro 
and  saw  that  everything  was  done  in  the  right  way. 

First  came  a  layer  of  large  pieces  of  rock,  com- 
fortable lumps  as  big  very  often  as  a  man's  head, 
till  the  whole  surface  was  the  most  distressing 
processional  way  that  any  pilgrim  of  the  past  could 
have  desired.  The  morning  after  a  good  stretch 
of  that  ferocious  paving  had  been  completed,  we 

^2 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

found,  when  we  went  down  to  draw  tools  for  the 
day's  work,  that  each  of  us  was  to  be  furnished 
with  a  hammer.  Then  was  made  clear  the  differ- 
ence between  experience  and  inexperience.  Those 
who  were  old  at  the  game  looked  over  the  pile  of 
hammers  carefully,  and  chose  little  ones,  stubbly 
little  chaps  with  short,  stumpy  handles.  Some 
of  us,  on  the  other  hand,  had  enlarged  ideas 
about  our  own  strength,  and  a  deal  of  sincere 
ignorance,  and  furnished  ourselves  with  imple- 
ments with  which  Thor  might  have  been  con- 
tent. We  had  yet  to  learn  that  breaking  stones  is 
quite  a  scientific  game,  depending  not  at  all  on 
great  muscles  or  mighty,  smashing  blows. 

We  went  down  to  our  road  and  scattered  our- 
selves along  it,  each  man  before  a  pile  of  the  rock 
that  was  waiting  by  the  side,  and  set  to  work. 
It  was  very  early  in  the  morning  when  we  arrived, 
but  as  the  sun  climbed  higher,  tunics  came  off  and 
sleeves  were  rolled  up  and  the  bronzed  faces  were 
wet  and  shining,  while  the  clatter  of  the  hammers 
never  ceased.  Then  did  we  foolish  ones  with  the 
big  hammers  realize  that  to  the  stone-breaker  the 
wrist  is  more  important  than  the  biceps,  and  while 
the  little  ones  went  tapping  merrily  on  the  beat 
of  our  preposterous  weapons  grew  slower  and 
slower  and  our  piles  of  broken  stone  seemed  never 
to  increase.  Four  hours  of  breaking  stone  with  a 
big  hammer  is  enough  to  put  any  man  out  of  con- 

H 


ROADS   AND    THEIR     MAKING 


ceit  with  his  own  strength  and  to  set  him  devising 
all  sorts  of  straps  and  bandages  for  his  tormented 
wrist. 

But  with  a  well-chosen  little  hammer  it  is  a 
pleasant  job,  as  I  found  later  on.  There  is  such 
satisfaction  in  the  gradual  increase  of  knowledge 
which  teaches  one  at  last  the  right  place  for  the 
blow  to  fall  and  the  exact  amount  of  force  required 
so  that  the  stone  shall  be  shattered  into  fragments 
of  the  required  size ;  it  is  so  comforting  to  attack 
a  great  piece  of  rock  with  repeated  little  blows 
till  all  it^  joints  are  loosed  so  that  one  sharp  stroke 
at  the  right  moment  sends  it  tumbling  in  all  direc- 
tions. One  can  sit  there,  working  away,  dreaming 
of  all  sorts  of  remote  and  happy  things.  I  know 
now  why  so  many  of  those  gnarled  old  men  whom 
one  used  to  find  breaking  stones  by  the  roadside 
in  England  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago  were  so 
placid  and  happy,  looking  out  beyond  the  world 
with  eyes  that  smiled.  One  can  imagine  many  less 
secure  refuges  for  a  tortured  heart  and  mind  than 
a  pile  of  stones  by  the  wayside  and  a  little  hammer, 
with  the  high   sun  over  all. 

Well,  we  broke  our  rocks  into  little  pieces,  and 
scattered  them  over  the  surface  of  our  road  till 
all  those  big  foundation  stones  were  covered  three 
inches  deep.  Above  them  we  scattered  earth  that 
it  might  work  in  with  them  and  bind  them  to- 
gether, and  the  wagons  began  to  pass  to  and  fro 

^5 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

along  the  way  we  had  made.  It  may  not  have  been 
road-making  according  to  the  best  modern  ideas, 
but  there  at  least  was  a  highway,  apt  and  ade- 
quate for  the  service  of  either  peace  or  war. 


26 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  SERES  ROAD 

ONE  road  there  is  in  Macedonia  which  dom- 
inates all  the  rest.  It  is  so  much  more  im- 
portant than  the  others — though  many  of  them 
have  great  value  and  are  indeed  vital  to  the  needs 
of  the  campaign — that  it  is  frequently  referred  to 
v^ithout  any  mention  of  its  name.  So  you  may  hear 
one  man  say  to  another,  "Oh  yes,  that  happened 
just  by  the  twenty-fifth  kilo."  Everyone  under- 
stands. To  the  uninitiated  it  might  sound  as  if 
there  was  in  all  the  country  only  one  stone  which 
marked  twenty-five  kilometers  from  Salonika,  but 
every  one  who  has  been  out  for  any  length  of 
time  knows  perfectly  well  that  the  Seres  road  is 
referred  to,  that  long  highway  which  runs  from 
Salonika  northeast  to  the  Struma  and  then,  after 
crossing  the  river,  swings  southward  to  Seres. 

That  road  has  played  a  big  part  in  the  campaign, 
and  will  continue  to  do  so  to  the  end.  A  glance 
at  the  map  will  show  the  reason.  It  is  the  one 
way  of  approach  to  a  very  considerable  portion  of 
the  Struma  front.     All  the  men  engaged  on  that 

^7 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

front  must  pass  up  the  road  to  their  work,  and 
all  their  supplies  of  every  kind  must  follow  them 
along  the  same  way.  There  is  not  a  yard  of  rail- 
way available  in  this  direction.  It  is  true  that  men 
and  material  for  the  district  commanding  the 
mouth  of  the  river  can  be  taken  round  to  Stavros 
by  sea,  but  for  the  furnishing  of  the  chief  part  of 
the  line  the  Seres  road  is  wholly  responsible,  and 
some  knowledge  of  it  is  necessary  to  any  clear 
understanding  of  the  progress  and  difficulties  of 
the  whole  adventure.  Ignorance  of  the  nature  of 
the  road  has  led  to  a  great  deal  of  misunderstand- 
ing in  the  past,  and  more  has  been  expected  of  the 
Salonika  armies  than  they  could  have  accomplished. 
Very  many  soldiers  are  introduced  to  the  road 
as  soon  as  they  land.  There  is  the  day  of  dis- 
embarkation down  there  at  the  edge  of  the  bay, 
and  the  march  through  the  evil-smelling,  badly 
paved  town.  For  two  or  three  days  they  wait  at 
the  base  camp,  going  for  short  marches,  finding  out 
all  the  customs  of  the  country,  and  learning  not 
to  expect  the  appearance  of  a  portable  church 
every  time  the  ringing  of  numerous  unseen  bells 
heralds  the  appearance  of  a  flock  of  goats.  Then, 
if  their  division  is  on  the  Struma,  they  march  out 
one  morning  northwards  past  Lembet  on  the  first 
stage  of  their  fifty-mile  journey.  And  if  they  are 
fresh  troops  just  out  from  England  and  have 
arrived  in  the  summer  they  do  not  enjoy  it  at  all. 

28 


THE     SERES     ROAD 


They  may  get  as  far  as  Giivezne,  fifteen  miles  out, 
in  comparative  comfort,  but  once  they  reach  that 
spot  and  encounter  the  hills,  their  troubles  begin. 
It  is  all  so  new,  so  strange,  and  so  very  uncom- 
fortable.    There    is   the    rising   at   painfully    early 
hours  in  the  morning  so  as  to  get  well  on  the  way 
before  the  heat  becomes  too  fierce  for  marching.^ 
Then  there  is  that  terrible  time  in  the  middle  of 
the  day  when  one   searches  in  weary  despair  for 
some  kindly  touch  of  shade,  when   the  heat   and 
the    flies    make    sleep    impossible,    when    the    only 
thing  with  which  thirst  can  be  relieved  is  chlorin- 
ated water  which  seems,  in  those  early  days,  to 
parch  the  throat  and  mouth.     And  in  the  evening, 
when  it  might  seem  possible  to  rest  in  the  blessed 
relief  of  the  cool  twilight  hours,  there  is  the  need 
to  get  up  and  press  forward  once  again,  coming 
in  the  darkness  to  camp  in  a  strange  place  where 
no  one  can  find  the  water  supply,  and  the  cooks 
take  hours  fumbling  through  the  dark  to  prepare 
any  kind  of  a  meal.    It  needs  an  uncommonly  stout 
heart  to  stand  the  strain  of  those  initiatory  days. 
The  Seres  road  in  summer  can  be  very  unkind  even 
to  seasoned  troops  accustomed  to  the  country.    For 
newcomers  it  is  the  most  searching  kind  of  test. 
I  have  seen  them  so  often,  new  drafts  fresh  from 
England,    toiling    hopelessly    up    those    unending 
steeps,  choked  and  blinded  by  the  dust  of  the  lorries 
and  ambulances  which  are  racing  to  and  fro  all  the 


29 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

time.  All  that  they  are  feeling  is  written  so  plainly 
on  their  faces.  They  are  so  far  away  from  home 
and  all  the  beloved,  accustomed  things.  Enthusi- 
asm and  love  of  adventure  might  have  carried  them 
triumphantly  through  some  wild  brief  rush  in 
France,  but  in  this  there  is  no  adventure.  Here 
is  no  glory,  no  swift  conflict  and  immediate  service. 
This  is  nothing  but  dull,  unending  toil,  with  all 
the  pains  of  thirst  and  weariness  in  a  strange  and 
friendless  land.  Those  are  the  hours  when  the 
weight  of  the  pack  becomes  an  intolerable  burden 
to  the  young  soldier,  and  the  rifle  seems  a  fiendish 
encumbrance  devised  with  infinite  skill  to  torment 
its  owner.  At  that  time  everything  tends  to  pro- 
voke a  fierce,  unreasoning  anger.  The  shape  of  the 
head  of  the  man  in  front  appears  to  be  utterly  de- 
testable, the  carriage  of  the  man  on  the  left  is 
a  torment.  We  all  know  that  hour,  we  who  have 
learned  the  obedience  of  war  and  have  had  to  pass 
through  that  flaming  test  to  find  the  indifference 
to  bodily  discomfort,  the  disregard  of  hardship  and 
fatigue  which  are  the  gifts  which  his  life  does  at 
last  bestow  on  the  soldier.  But  it  is  very  hard  to 
meet  that  hour  and  the  Seres  road  at  one  and  the 
same  time. 

It  is  too  much  for  some  of  them.  They  get 
permission  to  fall  out,  and  their  position  is,  if  any- 
thing, rather  worse  than  before.  They  are  alone 
now,  but  still  the  journey  must  be  completed.     In 

30 


THE     SERES     ROAD 


the  days  of  training  in  England,  to  fall  out  on  a 
march  often  meant  a  lift  from  some  friendly  carter, 
or  perhaps  a  drink  at  some  cottage  door  or  a  few 
apples — but  here  there  is  nothing.  The  lorries  are 
pounding  by,  but  they  are  much  too  busy  to  stop 
and  collect  people  who  are  merely  tired.  There  is 
no  sign  of  any  water,  nor  of  any  habitation  of  men. 
There  is  only  the  long  road  winding  up  the  eternal 
hills,  and  all  the  burdens  still  remain  to  be  dragged 
after  the  vanishing  column. 

And  then,  perhaps,  the  youngster  realizes  that 
he  has  been  a  fool.  The  others  will  have  reached 
camp  and  food  and  drink  and  rest  long  before  him. 
They  will  be  taking  their  ease  while  he  is  still  toil- 
ing on ;  when  he  arrives  there  will  be  no  sympathy, 
but  those  who  endured  to  the  end  will  sneer  at 
him,  and  officers  will  be  demanding  explanations. 
...  I  fancy  that  a  great  many  men  will  put 
down  the  most  painful  hour  of  their  lives  to  the 
account  of  the  Seres  road.  Some  of  us,  saved  by 
strength  or  determination  or  sheer  cross-grained 
temper,  have  managed  always  to  keep  our  places 
jon  the  march,  and  so  know  nothing  of  the  misery 
which  must  surely  come  to  the  man  who  falls  out, 
but  I  fancy  that  even  we  give  thanks  that  it  is 
not  possible  to  march  up  that  road  for  the  first  time 
twice  over.  Those  who  have  been  there  will  know 
what  I  mean. 

But  the  Seres  road  is  not  content  with  torment- 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

ing  newcomers  and  teaching  them  with  exceptional 
severity  that  sharp  lesson  which  every  soldier  must 
learn  before  he  is  a  man  made  and  approved.  That 
is  only  one  of  its  activities.  It  also  contrives  to 
be  the  greatest  possible  nuisance  to  people  high 
in  authority. 

Fifty  miles  of  an  English  road,  running  smoothly 
over  a  fine  surface,  with  none  but  gentle  slopes,  is 
not  such  a  very  serious  matter.  If,  for  instance, 
the  Seres  road  were  such  as  that  great  highway 
which  runs  from  London  to  Aldershot,  it  would 
be  almost  as  good  as  a  railway — ^better  in  many 
respects.  Supplies  could  be  whirled  up  to  the 
front  without  difficulty,  and  the  wounded  could 
be  brought  back  without  pain.  The  swift  lorries 
could  hurry  to  and  fro  all  day  long;  there  would 
be  no  discomfort  for  the  marching  men.  Given 
transport  enough,  an  army  of  almost  any  size  could 
be  provided  with  all  the  material  of  every  kind 
which  it  required,  without  any  peril  of  delay.  But 
this  road  of  ours  is  worse  than  anything  that  there 
is  to  be  found  in  England. 

It  would  be  hard  to  make  a  map  on  a  scale  large 
enough  to  do  full  justice  to  the  difficulties  which  it 
has  to  encounter.  The  hills  which  lie  in  its  way 
are  the  most  resolute  foes  of  traffic  that  any  one  could 
imagine.  There  is  no  simple  matter  of  cHmbing 
up  one  long  slope  to  the  highest  point  at  Lahana 
and  then  running  pleasantly  down  on  the  far  side. 

3^ 


THE    SERES    ROAD 


It  has  to  get  across  not  one  hill  but  an  utterly 
mad  tangle  of  hills.  It  climbs  up  and  up,  and  then 
loses  all  it  has  gained  in  a  wild  dash  downwards 
which  brings  it  back  almost  to  the  level  from 
whence  it  started,  with  all  the  work  to  be  done 
over  again.  And  this  happens  not  once  but,  in 
seeming,  endlessly,  and  almost  the  whole  of  its 
course  is  the  most  violent  kind  of  switchback. 

Its  hills  would  be  alarming  enough  if  its  sur- 
face were  good,  but  the  surface  of  the  Seres  road 
is  atrocious.  There  is  nothing  in  the  least  won- 
derful in  the  fact,  nor  is  any  one  to  be  blamed  for 
it.  Everybody  knows  how  our  roads  in  England 
have  to  be  petted  and  pampered  if  they  have  to 
bear  much  fast,  heavy  motor  traffic.  The  most 
perfect  surface  gives  way  sooner  or  later  under 
the  constant  strain  and  suction  of  the  whirling 
tires,  and  repairs  are  going  on  all  the  time.  The 
Seres  road  had  to  start  with  a  surface  a  good  deal 
worse  than  that  of  the  ordinary  macadamized  road. 
It  was  made  very  much  in  the  fashion  which  I 
described  in  the  last  chapter ;  indeed  no  other 
fashion  was  possible.  It  certainly  existed  before 
we  came  to  Macedonia,  but  in  those  days  most  of 
it  can  have  been  no  better  than  one  of  the  ordinary 
native  tracks  of  trodden  earth.  The  army  has 
labored  over  all  the  length  of  it  and  continues  to 
labor,  and  will  have  to  continue  to  do  so, 
but    what    can    you    do    with    mere    stones    and 


33 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

earth  to  defy  the  rushing  wheels  which  cut  and 
wrench  and  tear  the  surface  as  fast  as  it  is  laid 
down?  It  would  take  something  made  of  ferro- 
concrete to  stand  the  strain  which  that  road  must 
endure,  week  in  and  week  out,  all  the  time  there 
is  a  gun  on  the  Struma  which  has  need  of  shells, 
or  a  man  who  must  be  supplied  with  food. 

The  rulers  of  the  Army  Service  Corps  may  know 
how  many  lorries  go  up  and  down  that  road  every 
day.  I  cannot  pretend  to  any  such  knowledge.  I 
only  know  that  it  is  never  free  from  the  grimy, 
lumbering  monsters.  I  have  camped  beside  it  for 
days  at  a  time,  and  they  were  thundering  past  all 
the  while.  Between  the  convoys  there  will  come 
the  lighter  ambulances.  Sometimes  there  will  be  a 
battalion  marching  up  with  the  long  train  of  its 
transport  grinding  on  through  the  inches  of  dust 
or  mud ;  sometimes  it  will  be  a  battery  of  artillery. 
All  day  long  the  road  knows  no  rest;  lights  are 
flashing  up  and  down  it  through  all  the  night.  In- 
evitably its  surface  is  reduced  to  a  condition  which 
would  drive  an  English  motorist  to  suicide — and 
it  is  fifty  miles  long. 

So  all  those  people  who  wonder  why  Seres  and 
Demir  Hissar  and  Fort  Rupel  were  not  taken  last, 
summer  must  be  referred  to  the  Seres  road  for  the^ 
answer.  They  must  ask  the  drivers  of  the  lorries ; 
they  must  inquire  from  the  sick  and  wounded  who 
endured   that   journey    down    in    the    ambulances. 

34 


THE     SERES     ROAD 


More  fortunate  than  many,  I  was  on  the  other 
side  of  the  country  when  my  time  came,  and  I 
went  very  comfortably  down  to  the  sea  in  a  hospital 
train,  but  friends  of  mine  were  carried  down  the 
road  in  the  Red  Cross  cars,  and  I  know  what  it 
meant  to  them.  The  most  careful  driving  and  the 
best  springs  in  the  world  cannot  save  a  broken 
body  when  the  way  is  full  of  holes  and  stubborn 
upstanding  rocks. 

But  the  great  point  so  far  as  operations  on  the 
Struma  front  are  concerned  is  this,  that  in  all 
your  making  of  plans  you  are  inexorably  limited 
by  the  power  of  the  road  to  bear  your  transport. 
Even  if  you  had  unlimited  lorries  at  command,  you 
could  only  get  so  m^any  of  them  on  to  the  road 
in  a  given  time.  The  wear  and  tear,  too,  are 
frightful,  and  motors  cannot  last  half  as  long  as 
they  would  on  an  ordinary  road.  And  of  course  the 
hills  and  the  surface  together  cut  down  speed 
relentlessly,  and  the  journey  is  a  long,  painful 
business. 

Bearing  these  facts  in  mind,  consider  how  vast 
are  the  needs  of  an  army  which  is  operating  on  an 
extensive  scale.  There  will  be  many  batteries,  and 
all  of  them  must  be  kept  supplied  with  shells.  A 
battery  can  blaze  away  in  minutes  ammunition 
which  it  has  taken  hours  to  bring  up,  and  once 
your  lorries  are  empty  they  must  go  all  the  way 
back  before  they  can  be  refilled.     In  Sir  Douglas 


35 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

Haig's  report  on  the  Somme  offensive  he  told  how 
hundreds  of  miles  of  railway  had  to  be  laid  down 
in  preparation  for  that  great  move.  We  have  only 
fifty  miles  of  a  disastrous  road  and  no  railways 
at  all.  Supplies,  supplies  and  again  supplies — that^ 
is  the  keynote  of  success  for  the  modern  army.  I 
As  your  transport  is,  so  will  your  victory  be.  The 
highest  skill,  the  greatest  degree  of  valor,  these 
will  be  useless  unless  the  material  you  require  is 
instantly  ready  to  your  hand.  Deprive  your  battery 
of  shells,  and  you  had  better  destroy  the  guns 
before  they  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

Shells  for  your  guns  and  food  for  your  men — 
these  things  are  essential.  And  there  are  count- 
less other  articles  almost  as  important.  You  must 
have  barbed  wire  for  your  defences,  and  wood  and 
galvanized  iron  and  sandbags  for  your  trenches. 
Bombs  must  be  brought  up  and  ammunition  for  the 
rifles.  Tools  of  all  sorts  must  be  ready  behind 
the  line,  and  wherever  the  advance  goes  the  sup- 
plies must  follow  it  if  you  are  to  hold  the  positions 
you  have  gained.  These  statements  are  the  merest 
commonplaces  of  war  as  it  is  waged  today, 
but  to  appreciate  the  full  force  of  them  one  needs 
to  be  sitting  at  the  far  end  of  the  Seres  road  waiting 
for  things  to  arrive. 

Very  wonderful  country  that  is,  up  there  just 
beyond  Lahana,  where  the  whole  of  the  Struma 
plain  is  spread  below  and  the  great  hills  stretch 

36 


THE    SERES    ROAD 


away  to  left  and  right,  some  clothed  with  trees, 
some  bare  and  gray  with  the  naked  rock.  If  one 
could  just  sit  and  look  at  it,  the  prospect  might 
appear  to  be  altogether  admirable,  and  one  could 
find  something  of  pleasure  in  the  far  prospect  of 
Demir  Hissar  and  the  great  mountains  which  rise 
beyond.  But  one  has  other  business  on  hand. 
Down  in  that  plain  the  Bulgar  and  the  Hun  are 
waiting,  and  we  have  to  deal  with  them — and  there 
are  the  miles  of  that  atrocious,  dominating  road. 
Some  day  perhaps  the  full  story  of  the  road  will 
be  told.  I  think  it  would  take  a  driver  of  the 
A.S.C.  and  one  of  the  R.A.M.C.  to  do  it  properly, 
with,  perhaps,  a  chapter  from  one  of  those  un- 
happy infantrymen  I  was  writing  about  just  now. 
Words  alone  would  hardly  be  able  to  do  it  justice, 
so  perhaps  the  cinematograph  might  be  brought 
in  to  assist,  and  in  time  the  people  of  Britain 
might  understand  something  of  what  is  involved 
in  this  campaign,  how  much  there  has  been  to  do 
and  to  endure,  how  great  have  been  the  difficulties, 
how  stern  are  the  limitations.  Whether  or  not 
the  peculiar  features  of  the  road  were  fully  realized 
when  the  adventure  was  planned  is  a  question  on 
which  the  future  may  possibly  throw  some  light. 
But  it  is  at  least  necessary  and  only  fair  that  they 
should  be  generally  understood  now.  The  nation 
should  know  what  manner  of  task  that  is  which 
its  soldiers  are  performing,  lest  there  be  a  ten- 


37 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

dency  to  judge  without  knowledge  and  to  condemn 
without  the  evidence  for  the  defence.  Last  sum- 
mer the  English  newspapers  were  announcing  the 
beginning  of  a  great  offensive  on  the  Struma.  It 
would  have  required  several  miracles  and  a  few 
thousand  magic  carpets  to  have  turned  that  offen- 
sive into  anything  like  the  mighty  affair  which  it 
was  to  have  been  in  the  minds  of  the  innocent  and 
imaginative  sub-editors  who  designed  those  trump- 
eting headlines. 


3S 


CHAPTER  IV 


'peace-time  soldiering" 


ACTIVE  service  from  the  soldier's  point  of 
view,  is  such  a  queer  mixture  of  the  real  thing 
and  of  that  other  business  which  is  contemptu- 
ously referred  to  as  "peace-time  soldiering."  Our 
new  armies  are  not  fond  of  peace-time  soldiering. 
The  men  put  on  khaki  suits  for  the  purpose  of 
killing  Germans,  and  they  find  it  hard  to  under- 
stand why  they  should  not  be  allowed  to  get  on 
with  that  interesting  business.  Besides,  it  seems 
so  very  absurd  to  come  across  the  sea  to  a  place 
where  war  is  actually  going  on  and  then  to  settle 
down  to  life  in  a  camp  where  things  are  very  much 
the  same  as  they  would  be  in  England,  except  that 
minor  luxuries  are  hard  to  come  by  and  week-end 
leave  is  a  thing  of  the  past. 

There  is  probably  less  of  this  irritating  life  in 
Macedonia  than  anywhere  in  the  areas  of  the  war, 
just  because  the  roads  need  so  much  attention.  In 
the  early  days  everybody  who  was  not  digging 
trenches  was  busy  on  the  roads.  There  was  so 
much  to  be  done,  and  labor  was  so  scarce  that  the 

39 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

army  was  set  to  navvying  as  a  matter  of  course. 
But  as  the  more  urgent  tasks  were  accomplished 
the  hated,  necessary  thing  came  back  and  in  the 
camps  all  over  the  country  men  found  themselves 
doing  once  more  the  things  which  they  had  hoped 
they  might  be  allowed  to  forget.  For  an  army  has 
many  of  the  qualities  of  steel,  and  if  it  is  to  be  of 
the  greatest  possible  value  when  the  time  for  using 
it  arrives  it  must  be  kept  keen  and  bright  by 
constant  polishing.  If  it  is  allowed  to  relax  and 
grow  slack,  there  is  a  peril  that  it  will  fail  when 
the  time  of  testing  comes — and  something  more 
than  drill  is  learnt  on  the  parade  ground. 

One  area  there  is  in  Macedonia  where  peace- 
time soldiering  is  specially  possible  and  where  it 
is  carried  out  with  a  deal  of  energy.  The  troops 
which  may  happen  to  be  stationed  for  a  time  on 
the  Hortiack  plateau  have  little  to  do  in  the  way 
of  road-making,  and  their  commanders  take  good 
care  that  they  shall  have  every  chance  of  reviving 
the  memory  of  the  lessons  learnt  during  the  train- 
ing in  England.  Indeed  it  is  a  kind  of  polishing 
station  where  divisions  can  be  sent  in  turn  to  be 
smartened  up  and  reminded  that  even  if  they  are 
on  active  service,  the  man  who  comes  on  parade 
unshaven  is  a  very  dreadful  criminal. 

It  is  a  good  place  for  the  beginning  of  one's 
experience  of  Macedonia.  High  above  and  to  the 
east  of  Salonika  Bay,  the  plateau  rolls  along  for 

40 


^'PEACETIME  SOLDIERING'' 


miles  to  where  Kotos,  that  excellent  mountain, 
climbs  into  the  sky.  People  who  cherish  dim 
memories  of  things  learnt  from  geography  books 
at  school  may  be  under  the  impression  that  a 
plateau  ought  to  be  flat,  but  there  is  nothing  in 
the  least  flat  about  Hortiack.  It  consists  of  endless 
hills,  and  though  they  are  not  nearly  so  big  as 
those  which  torment  the  Seres  road,  they  are  big 
enough  to  provide  ample  exercise  for  the  men  sta- 
tioned among  them.  On  the  infinite  variety  of 
their  slopes  the  camps  hide  coyly  away,  and  it  is 
no  small  adventure  to  be  sent  to  that  area  to  find 
any  particular  battalion.  You  may  find  all  the 
rest  of  the  brigade  to  which  it  belongs  and  still 
fail  to  discover  the  object  of  your  search.  There 
are  those  concealing  hills  on  every  hand,  and  no- 
body seems  to  know  the  exact  spot  you  are  seek- 
ing. And  even  when  you  have  been  there  a  week 
or  two  the  troubles  are  not  entirely  at  an  end,  and 
it  is  not  safe  to  be  too  confident  in  the  power  of 
your  sense  of  direction.  It  is  better  to  keep  an 
eye  on  the  sun  and  to  study  landmarks  and  bear- 
ings before  you  set  out  to  explore  those  complicated 
valleys. 

Everywhere  from  end  to  end  of  the  area  one 
found  the  busy  camps  in  the  days  when  I  knew 
the  place.  Remote  though  it  might  be  from  the 
actual  fighting,  there  was  plenty  of  the  sound  of 
war  in  the  air.     You  see  in  those  sudden  little 


41 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

valleys  there  is  plenty  of  space  for  the  more  violent 
parts  of  training  to  be  carried  out  without  danger 
to  other  people,  so  a  trench-mortar  battery  would 
be  busy  in  one  secluded  dell,  a  grenade  school  in 
another,  and  a  machine-gun  class  in  a  third.  They 
would  be  banging  away  all  day  long  as  instructors 
toiled  to  perfect  the  pupils  in  the  art  of  abolishing 
the  King's  enemies.  And  then,  rounding  a  sudden 
bend  you  would  come  upon  a  broad,  flat  space 
where  a  battalion  was  drawn  up  on  parade  going 
through  battalion  drill  just  as  it  might  have  done 
in  any  park  in  England. 

We  had  a  camp  which  was  built  on  nearly  as 
many  hills  as  Rome,  and  to  get  from  the  officers' 
lines  to  the  mess  involved  the  descent  of  one  steep 
little  hill  and  the  ascent  of  another,  while  the  duties 
of  the  orderly  officer  took  him  up  and  down  stiff, 
slippery  slopes  all  day  long.  But  it  was  a  fine 
place,  and  it  was  very  good  to  live  there,  and  to 
be  able  to  sit  in  the  evening  looking  out  over  the 
smooth  water  of  the  bay  to  where  Mount  Olympus 
stood,  a  beautiful,  ghostly  shape,  sixty  miles  away. 
And  in  the  bay  there  were  the  ships  which  had 
left  England  only  a  little  while  ago,  and  one  did 
not  seem  so  far  away  from  home.  There  were 
other  advantages,  too.  Hortiack — its  proper  name 
is  Hortackoj  but  we  never  rose  to  that  pitch  of 
accuracy — is  only  seven  miles  from  Salonika,  and 
it  was  possible  to  get  out  supplies  for  the  mess, 

42 


''PEACETIME  SOLDIERING" 

so  there  was  never  any  lack  of  those  little  lux- 
uries which  do  so  much  to  make  life  bearable  in 
distant  lands.  It  was  also  possible  to  get  into  the 
town  itself  occasionally,  though  Salonika  is  not 
exactly  the  sort  of  place  one  would  choose  for  a 
pleasure  trip.  Still  it  is  a  town,  with  shops  and 
restaurants  and  crowds  of  people,  and  after  a  pro- 
longed course  of  Macedonia  one  is  grateful  for 
very  little. 

There  were  times  when  we  did  not  altogether 
appreciate  our  spell  of  peace-time  soldiering.  One 
day  in  particular  will  remain  in  the  memories  of 
some  of  us  as  long  as  we  are  capable  of  remem- 
bering anything.  Some  one  in  authority  had 
evolved  a  tactical  scheme  on  a  large  scale,  and  no 
one  realized  quite  how  large  that  scale  was.  We 
were  quite  accustomed  to  brigade  operations  which 
began  at  five  in  the  morning  and  ended  at  eight, 
and  we  thought  that  customary  program  was  to 
be  carried  out  on  this  occasion  and  that  we  should 
all  be  back  in  time  for  breakfast. 

We  were  ordered  to  parade  at  4:45  a.m.,  so  we 
were  busy  getting  up  soon  after  four,  and  even  in 
summer  time  getting  up  at  that  hour  on  those 
hills  is  rather  a  chilly  business.  Somehow  we 
groped  our  way  on  to  parade  and  marched  off.  It 
was  about  two  hours  later  that  we  realized  that  some- 
thing very  unlike  the  usual  program  was  contemplated. 

43 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

For  we  had  marched  and  continued  to  march  alto- 
gether in  the  wrong  direction.  There  was  no  sign 
of  a  swinging  round  so  that  our  faces  might  be 
turned  towards  home,  and  we  began  to  wonder 
with  a  certain  acute  interest  what  time  it  would 
be  when  we  got  breakfast.  So  presently  we  came 
to  the  edge  of  the  plateau  and  halted  there,  looking 
northwards  over  the  quiet  level  of  Lake  Langaza 
to  the  tumult  of  the  hills  which  lay  between  us 
and  the  Struma.  We  waited  there  for  a  long  time, 
reflected  that  it  was  five  hours  since  we  had  got 
out  of  bed,  and  remembered  that  in  those  latitudes 
no  parades  are  supposed  to  take  place  in  summer 
between  10  a.m.  and  4  p.m.  It  seemed  reasonable 
to  suppose  that  we  should  be  sent  home  imme- 
diately, and  that  we  must  have  completed  our  mys- 
terious share  of  the  operations. 

But  no  one  seemed  inclined  to  send  us  home. 
Instead  we  were  thrust  out  along  the  edge  of  a 
precipice  and  sent  skirmishing  back  from  it  over 
large  areas  of  Macedonia  in  its  most  untamed  and 
riotous  mood.  It  was  blazing  hot  by  this  time, 
and  most  of  us  had  got  out  of  the  habit  of  seeing 
that  our  water-bottles  were  always  full.  By  the 
time  we  had  reached  and  occupied  the  crest  of  a 
low  hill  looking  towards  our  very  distant  home 
a  number  of  men  were  sighing  for  a  cosy  corner 
in  one  of  the  trenches  of  France,  and  the  rest  were 
inventing   suitable   destinies   for   the   general   who 

44 


^'PEACETIME  SOLDIERING'' 

designed  the  scheme  which  we  were  carrying  out. 
I  heard  a  great  many  suggestions,  but  none  of  them 
were  really  adequate.  After  a  little  further  baking 
on  that  ridge  we  moved  forward  again  and  occu- 
pied another  hill.  This  time  we  were  really  getting 
nearer  home,  and  things  looked  more  hopeful,  but 
the  designer  of  the  scheme  was  a  thorough  man, 
and  he  believed  in  doing  things  thoroughly.  All 
at  once  we  were  switched  oflf  to  take  part  in  a  wide 
flanking  movement,  which  included  the  assault  of 
three  more  hills,  and  then  we  were  told  that  we 
might  go.  That  last  three  miles  back  to  camp 
nearly  finished  us.  We  reached  the  camp  a  little 
over  ten  hours  after  we  left  it,  and  there  was 
hardly  anyone  who  had  had  a  mouthful  to  eat  or 
drink  since  he  l^pmbled  out  of  bed. 

I  am  not  putting  this  forward  as  the  classic  in- 
stance of  endurance,  to  be  recorded  in  all  military 
manuals  hereafter  forever  as  a  standard  by  which 
all  future  achievement  shall  be  judged.  It  was,  of 
course,  a  mere  nothing  from  the  soldier's  point  of 
view,  and  that  is  just  why  I  have  written  about 
it.  For  it  seems  rather  a  good  illustration  of  the 
ease  with  which  all  sorts  of  men  have  adapted 
themselves  to  the  soldier's  life  in  these  days  of 
the  nation's  necessity.  It  is  the  kind  of  thing  which 
has  been  done  over  and  over  again  since  the  war 
began  by  tens  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people 
who  before  the  war  would  never  have  dreamt  that 

45 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

it  was  possible  to  get  up  and  work  hard  with  their 
bodies  for  ten  hours  without  food  or  drink. 

If  in  the  days  of  peace  an  employer  of  five  thou- 
sand men  had  suggested  that  they  should  accom- 
plish such  a  feat  and  had  ordered  them  to  do  it, 
there  would  have  been  a  strike  on  a  large  scale, 
and  the  employer  would  have  been  accused  of  in- 
credible brutality.  But  there  were  many  more  than 
five  thousand  of  us,  and  no  one  thought  of  accusing 
the  responsible  general  of  brutality,  fervently 
though  we  cursed  him  at  the  time.  We  were  in 
the  army  now  and  it  was  all  in  the  day's  work. 
We  had  learnt  that  we  could  do  something  which 
we  had  never  thought  of  doing  before ;  we  had 
gained  some  information  about  the  power  of  these 
bodies  of  ours  to  do  and  to  endure  without  disaster 
and,  indeed,  without  overwhelming  discomfort. 
As  soon  as  we  got  into  camp  we  proceeded  to  learn 
something  about  their  power  to  appreciate  good 
food  and  drink.  I  have  to  confess  that  my  share 
of  the  performance  in  the  mess  consisted  of  an 
ordinary  lunch — it  came  first,  because  it  was  ready 
and  waiting  for  us — followed  by  a  very  complete 
breakfast.  Somehow  it  seemed  a  pity  to  miss  a 
meal. 

So  our  life  went  in  those  days  at  Hortiack.  There 
was  always  plenty  to  do,  and  yet  it  was  in  its 
way  a  holiday.  Also  there  were  occasional  amuse- 
ments, not  the  least  of  which  was  provided  by  the 

46 


^PEACETIME     SOLDIERING'' 


Greek  muleteers.  To  drive  some  of  the  innumer- 
able mules  required  to  cart  the  army's  luggage 
about  the  hills  of  Macedonia  a  number  of  Greeks 
had  been  employed.  In  addition  to  becoming 
acquainted  with  the  mules,  they  were  supposed  to 
learn  some  drill,  and  a  number  of  unfortunate 
sergeants  had  been  told  off  to  drill  them.  Those 
sergeants  did  not  enjoy  life  very  much.  The  first 
thing  to  be  done  was  to  find  some  one  in  the 
squad  who  knew  enough  English  to  translate  the 
words  of  command,  but  the  sergeant  who  cannot 
work  off  his  characteristic  sarcasms  on  his  pupils 
is  not  likely  to  be  very  happy.  Besides,  the  Greeks 
seemed  to  have  an  eternal  objection  to  marching  in 
step.  They  would  go  strolling  along,  with  the  ser- 
geant bellowing  his  "Left,  Right,  Left,"  and  the 
linguist  of  the  squad  making  Greek  noises  to  the 
same  effect,  but  those  muleteers  took  no  notice. 
They  did  not  even  trouble  to  march  in  time.  They 
sprawded  over  the  ground  with  happy  smiling  faces 
and  the  most  complete  indifference  to  the  noisy 
people  who  barked  at  them,  and  the  Tommies  stood 
round  criticizing  the  performances  while  the  ser- 
geants perspired  in  ineffectual  rage. 

But  there  was  a  better  thing  than  this:  there 
was  a  band.  How  it  came  to  be  there  no  one 
seemed  to  know,  but  it  lived  somewhere  among 
the  little  valleys,  and  it  used  to  be  sent  round  to 
give  the  various  battalions  a  treat  on  rare,  delight- 


47 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

ful  evenings.  If  you  want  to  appreciate  even  a 
third-rate  brass  band,  go  to  Macedonia  for  a  few 
months.  And  this  was  quite  a  good  band,  and  it 
played  all  sorts  of  tunes  we  knew  and  had  been 
accustomed  to  hear  at  home  in  the  days  before 
there  was  a  war,  as  well  as  some  others  which 
we  were  assured  were  the  ktest  favorites  and 
would  certainly  greet  us  on  our  return.  The  whole 
battalion  would  be  aware  of  the  fact  that  the  band 
was  going  to  pay  us  a  visit  three  days  before  it 
was  to  come,  and  everybody  was  waiting  for  it 
when  it  arrived. 

I  remember  the  last  of  these  excellent  concerts 
which  we  had.  It  was  in  the  hour  before  dinner, 
and  the  musicians  had  stationed  themselves  on  the 
top  of  one  of  our  numerous  hills.  Some  one  had 
sent  over  to  the  mess  for  some  chairs,  and  there 
had  come  also  a  tray  bearing  bottles — sherry,  ver- 
mouth, bitters  and  gin,  those  amiable  liquids  which 
do  so  excellently  prepare  the  way  for  a  meal.  So 
we  sat  there  and  listened,  and  the  men  were  all 
gathered  round.  Sometimes  a  familiar  chorus 
would  be  taken  up  by  a  hundred  voices ;  sometimes 
there  was  only  the  deep,  appreciative  silence,  while 
the  music  flowed  on.  For  a  little  while  v/e  were 
home  again.  We  did  not  regard  the  sea  below  or 
the  evening  sky,  or  the  far  shape  of  Olympus,  or 
any  of  those  things  which  surrounded  us.  We  were 
back  among  familiar  scenes,  and  faces  we  knew 

4S 


^'PEACETIME     SOLDIERINC 

were  shining  at  us.  We  moved  in  our  own  places 
and  among  our  own  people,  and  for  a  little  while 
we  were  content. 


49 


CHAPTER  V 

MARCHING   BY    NIGHT 

IT  is  not  good  to  march  in  the  daytime  during 
the  Macedonian  summer.  At  times,  of  course, 
it  has  to  be  done,  but  whenever  possible  marches 
are  made  by  night.  There  came  a  day  when  a 
party  of  us  were  ordered  to  proceed  from  Hortiack 
to  Ambarkoj,  and  we  paraded  at  five  in  the  after- 
noon, left  the  camp  behind,  and  came  in  time  to 
the  edge  of  the  plateau  looking  down  once  more  on 
Lake  Langaza.  The  sun  was  setting  as  we  reached 
the  top  of  the  hill;  the  long  shadows  were  falling 
across  the  still  water,  and  darkness  was  gathering 
round  Ajvatli,  the  village  which  stands,  remote 
from  the  world,  on  the  southern  shore  of  the  lake. 
Between  us  and  the  village  there  ran  two  miles  of 
one  of  the  steepest  hills  that  even  Macedonia  can 
show.  We  proceeded  cautiously  down  into  the 
darkness  which  seemed  to  flow  upward  to  receive 
and  cover  us.  Presently  all  that  plateau  which  had 
been  our  home  for  a  little  while  was  far  above  us 
and  out  of  sight  as  we  worked  cautiously  down  to 
the  level  of  the  lake — for  it  is  necessary  to  pro- 

50 


MARCHING     BY     NIGHT 

ceed  with  caution  when  marching  by  night  in  such 
a  country,  even  when  a  road  is  provided. 

Newly-arrived  troops  often  find  that  night 
marching  extraordinarily  difficult.  They  expect  too 
much  from  our  roads.  They  give  them  credit  for 
being  as  the  roads  of  England,  and  they  are  grieved 
when  their  feet  come  violently  in  contact  with 
rocks,  or  sink  into  deep  holes.  Even  if  one  knows 
the  country  and  its  ways  it  is  an  awkward  business 
at  first,  but  the  human  animal  is  wonderfully 
adaptable.  How  it  happens  I  cannot  tell,  but  in 
course  of  time  one  does  learn  the  trick.  The  feet 
seem  to  develop  an  extra  sense,  and  they  find  their 
way  over  all  sorts  of  obstacles  without  disaster,  so 
that  in  the  end  you  can  go  adventuring  over  any 
kind  of  ground  in  safety. 

But  however  sure  on  their  feet  the  men  may  be, 
you  can  never  be  altogether  certain  what  the  trans- 
port will  do,  and  going  down  steep  hills  by  night 
is  a  strain  to  find  out  all  the  weak  places.  Our 
particular  defect  asserted  itself  before  we  had  got 
half-way  down.  It  lay  in  the  pole  which  connected 
one  half-limber  with  the  other,  and  without  warn- 
ing it  tore  right  out  of  its  socket.  Either  the  wood 
was  faulty  or  it  had  been  badly  prepared.  What- 
ever the  reason,  there  was  the  crippled  limber  with 
half  our  stores  on  board,  lying  across  the  road, 
while  its  agitated  mules  were  dancing  the  tango 
round    it.      A    mule    can    always    be    trusted    to 

5^ 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

increase    any    unpleasantness    which    may    arrive. 

The  main  body  had  gone  on  ahead  in  happy  ig- 
norance of  the  disaster.  I  happened  to  be  in  com- 
mand of  the  rearguard,  so  I  was  intimately  con- 
cerned with  the  trouble  for  if  we  could  not  get  the 
limber  on  it  would  be  necessary  to  stay  with  it  all 
night.  That  is  one  of  the  beauties  of  life  in  the 
rearguard.  It  is  your  business  to  clear  up  all  the 
litter  as  you  go,  and  not  to  move  on  without  it. 

By  the  time  the  mules  had  been  dealt  with  and 
the  extent  of  the  damage  ascertained,  the  position 
looked  distinctly  unpleasant.  Limber  poles  do  not 
grow  on  Macedonian  hills.  It  might  have  been 
possible  to  send  a  man  to  steal  one  from  a  camp 
we  had  passed  some  four  miles  back,  but  that 
would  have  meant  a  delay  of  at  least  two  hours  and 
a  half.  But  one  does  not  need  so  very  many  weeks 
in  Macedonia  to  learn  the  great,  consoling  lesson 
that  the  British  Army  will  always  see  you  through 
— always.  Never  yet  have  I  known  it  to  fail. 
Whatever  the  occasion,  the  man  who  can  deal  with 
it  is  there,  and  I  knew  that  on  this  occasion,  too, 
salvation  must  be  somewhere  handy. 

It  came  in  the  shape  of  a  fiery  little  company- 
sergeant-major  who  had  been  a  transport  sergeant 
in  France  and  knew  all  about  limbers  and  every- 
thing else.  He  came  bustling  up  and  I  subsided  into 
a  kind  of  lay  figure  whose  sole  business  it  was  to 
stand  and  hold  an  electric  torch  in  the   required 


MARCHING     BY     NIGHT 

position  while  the  little  man  obtained  ropes  from 
mysterious  sources,  performed  strange  deeds  with 
them  and  the  broken  pole,  and  issued  orders  at  the 
rate  of  fifty  a  minute  to  my  command.  He  was  the 
man  of  the  moment,  and  I  was  quite  content  to  hold 
the  torch  for  him.  You  must  never  interfere  with 
the  army  when  it  is  getting  you  out  of  a  tangle.  If 
you  do  it  may  be  flustered,  or,  worse  still,  offended. 
Just  let  it  alone  and  wait  till  the  work  is  done,  and 
then  events  will  resume  their  normal  course. 

So  at  the  end  of  ten  violent  minutes  the  little 
man  jerked  himself  upright  and  saluted.  "Ready 
to  carry  on,  sir,"  he  snapped,  and  the  procession 
lumbered  forward  and  downward  once  more.  Ten 
minutes  later  we  met  a  panic-stricken  member  of 
the  main  body  who  had  come  back  to  look  for  us. 
When  you  are  in  charge  of  all  the  stores  of  a  com- 
pany, including  the  mess  outfit,  you  are  not  likely 
to  suffer  from  neglect. 

If  you  pass  within  half  a  mile  of  it  and  can  see 
it  only  by  the  light  of  the  stars,  one  village  is  very 
like  another  all  the  world  over,  and  that,  perhaps, 
is  why  I  have  an  idea  that  Ajvatli  must  be  a  very 
nice  place.  It  seemed  that  it  might  have  been  a 
village  in  England.  It  was  very  quiet,  with  happy 
little  lights  shining  here  and  there.  It  was  a  place 
of  homes,  and  since  one  could  not  see  them  one 
could  forget  for  the  moment  that  the  people  were 
Macedonian  and  of  imcouth  habits.    I  never  saw  the 

53 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

place  again,  so  that  dim  picture  remains,  a  very 
pleasant  memory  of  our  journey  as  we  turned  and 
made  our  way  westward  along  the  border  of  the 
lake. 

That  was  good  travelling — night  marching  at  its 
best.  There  was  no  attempt  at  a  road,  but  we 
went  smoothly  forward  over  thick,  close  turf. 
Thorn  bushes  grew  here  and  there,  but  there  was 
no  obstacle  in  our  way.  On  the  right  lay  the 
smooth  black  water  of  the  lake,  and  on  the  left  the 
ground  sloped  gently  upward  to  the  secret  darkness 
where  lay  the  hills  from  whence  we  had  come.  The 
air  was  full  of  the  incessant  shrilling  of  the  tree- 
frogs,  but  the  bull-frogs  in  the  lake  had  absolutely 
nothing  to  say  for  themselves,  which  was  a  com- 
fort. There  was  once  a  man  in  the  camp  of  some 
little  detached  post  or  other  in  Macedonia  who  was 
so  pestered  by  the  chanting  of  the  bull-frogs  in  a 
pool  close  by  that  he  arose  at  midnight  and  lobbed 
a  Mills  grenade  into  the  middle  of  the  concert. 
Most  of  the  frogs  were  too  dead  to  sing  any  more 
after  that,  but  the  camp  was  awake  half  the  night 
trying  to  decide  whether  or  not  the  remedy  was 
worse  than  the  complaint. 

Just  by  the  end  of  the  lake  it  seemed  good  to  halt 
for  a  little  food,  for  it  was  ten  o'clock,  and  we  had 
another  five  or  six  miles  to  travel.  We  had  not  been 
halted  two  minutes  before  the  merry  fires  were 
dancing  at  the  spot  the  cooks  had  selected  for  their 


MARCHING     BY     NIGHT 


operations,  and  by  that  sign  you  might  have  real- 
ized, had  you  been  there  and  known  the  facts,  that 
we  were  no  new-comers  in  Macedonia. 

For  Macedonia  is  a  country  in  which  the  betting 
is  against  your  finding  fuel  at  any  halting-place.  It 
is  true  that  there  are  forests  here  and  there,  but 
trees  are  generally  very  scarce.  In  some  places 
there  are  bushes  and  scrub,  but  very  often  the  camp 
must  be  pitched  on  an  open  plain  which  grows 
nothing  more  substantial  than  thistles.  That  is  the 
time  when  novices  suffer,  and  especially  at  night. 
They  search  miserably  and  with  pain  all  over  the 
place  and  find  in  the  end  no  more  than  a  few  hand- 
fuls  of  poor,  thin  stuff  which  makes  a  little  blaze 
and  flickers  out,  leaving  the  water  as  cold  as  ever, 
and  the  prospects  of  tea  as  dismally  remote.  But 
the  old  hands  know  better  than  that.  Every  bit  of 
wood  they  pass  on  the  march  is  collected.  You  will 
see  men  with  long,  rough  sticks  tied  to  their  rifles 
and  two  or  three  more  in  their  hands.  Sometimes 
almost  every  man  of  a  platoon  will  be  carrying  fire- 
wood, and  when  the  halt  is  reached  it  is  all  handed 
over  to  the  cooks.  And  on  this  occasion  we  had  done 
better  than  usual.  The  last  camp  we  had  passed  on 
leaving  the  plateau  must  have  been  the  home  of  a 
very  fresh  and  incautious  unit,  for  they  had  stacked 
close  beside  the  road  a  whole  pile  of  bits  of  packing 
cases,  than  which  there  is  no  better  or  more  desirable 
firewood.    The  temptation  had  been  too  much  for  our 

55 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

boys,  and  of  course  we  had  seen  nothing  of  what  hap- 
pened as  we  passed,  and  now  their  fuel  was  boiling 
the  water  of  our  tea  at  a  splendid  rate. 

There  was  only  one  drawback  to  our  position  on 
the  edge  of  the  lake.  From  the  water,  attracted  by 
the  flames,  came  millions  of  tiny  gnats  and  midges. 
There  were  very  few  mosquitoes,  but  even  so  it  was 
an  uncomfortable  business  for  anyone  who  is  not  fond 
of  eating  gnats  with  bread  and  jam  or  of  swallowing 
them  in  tea.  But  then  Macedonia  is  no  place  for  peo- 
ple who  are  too  particular. 

We  went  on  again  under  the  same  quiet  stars  for 
mile  after  easy  mile.  There  was  no  fatigue  in  that 
marching,  nothing  but  a  little  reasonable  weariness. 
The  men  did  not  sing.  Indeed  I  heard  very  little  sing- 
ing on  the  march  anywhere  in  the  country,  and  none 
at  all  from  our  battalion.  But  they  swung  along  hap- 
pily enough,  chatting  and  laughing ;  there  was  none  of 
that  dour  silence  which  tells  that  the  limits  of  endur- 
ance are  being  strained.  From  the  distance  came  the 
little  sound  of  guns,  but  whether  from  the  Struma  or 
the  Doiran  front  it  was  not  easy  to  say.  We  were 
too  far  away,  and  hills  play  queer  tricks  with  sound. 

At  last  the  column  halted.  There  did  not  seem  to 
be  any  particular  reason  why  it  should  halt.  I  think 
every  one  felt  equal  to  a  few  miles  more,  but  we  had 
covered  twenty  from  our  starting-point  and  it  was  an 
order  that  we  should  rest.  Some  one  who  had  come 
on  ahead  and  arrived  while  daylight  remained  led  the 

5? 


MARCHING     BY     NIGHT 

different  parties  to  their  appointed  camping  grounds 
and  told  us  where  to  find  the  water.  Once  again  ex- 
perience bore  witness  to  itself.  With  newcomers  the 
settling  down  for  the  night  in  the  dark  is  a  terrible 
business,  and  people  are  rushing  to  and  fro  for  hours, 
but  there  was  no  fuss  or  delay  with  our  men.  Quietly 
and  very  quickly  they  made  their  arrangements  with 
no  need  of  supervision.  Little  fires  sprang  up  along 
their  lines  and  one  could  catch  glimpses  of  them  as  they 
lay,  some  huddled  together,  some  separately,  smoking 
a  final  cigarette.  But  for  us  the  day  was  by  no  means 
over.  There  were  only  the  five  of  us,  officers  of  the  one 
company,  and  the  mess  president,  aided  and  abetted 
by  the  cook,  had  decreed  that  we  should  have  dinner 
when  we  arrived.  Already  the  cook  was  very  busy 
with  pots  and  pans  round  his  fire,  and  one  of  the  serv- 
ants was  spreading  a  cloth  on  the  ground  and  arrang- 
ing packs  round  it  for  us  to  sit  on.  The  company 
commander  was  trying  to  write  some  report  or  other 
with  the  aid  of  an  electric  torch,  and  swearing  dis- 
tressfully at  the  same  time,  when  we  became  aware  of 
an  approaching  radiance.  It  was  another  of  the  serv- 
ants, bringing  up  the  lamp  to  which  we  had  treated 
ourselves  during  that  little  spell  of  luxury  at  Hortiack. 
A  beautiful  oil  lamp  it  was,  with  glass  and  globe  com- 
plete, and  we  had  been  very  proud  of  it.  But  we  im- 
agined that  it  had  been  left  behind.  Glass  chimneys 
and  globes  are  not  the  sort  of  things  to  travel  securely 
in  limbers. 

57 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

"Where  on  earth  did  you  get  that  thing  from?" 
asked  our  astonished  commander. 

"We  just  brought  it  along,  sir,"  repHed  the  man, 
and  it  took  a  whole  string  of  questions  to  bring  out  the 
fact  that  one  of  the  servants  had  carried  the  lamp,  an- 
other the  chimney  and  another  the  globe  in  their  hands 
for  the  whole  twenty  miles.  They  had  their  rifles  and 
all  their  equipment.  They  had  also,  you  may  be  very 
sure,  their  share  of  the  looted  bits  of  packing  cases, 
and  yet  they  had  brought  these  things  all  the  way. 
The  British  Tommy  is  an  incalculable  person.  Those 
three,  it  seemed,  were  as  proud  of  that  lamp  as  we  had 
been.  They  wanted  it  to  go  shining  vaingloriously  over 
Macedonia  and  to  fill  the  members  of  other  messes 
with  envy,  so  they  "just  brought  it  along,"  and  they 
carried  it  afterwards  over  very  many  miles  of  that 
uneasy  land,  till  misfortune  and  a  thunderstorm  met  it 
at  Lahana. 

The  air  was  utterly  still,  and  the  lamp  looked  very 
pleasant  burning  there  so  brightly  under  the  stars  with 
our  cutlery  arranged  on  the  cloth  around  it.  I  have 
had  dinner  at  some  curious  hours,  but  I  don't  think  I 
had  ever  had  it  at  two  in  the  morning  before,  yet  it 
seemed  more  like  the  end  of  the  day  than  near  the 
beginning,  such  was  the  magic  of  that  pleasant  night. 
And  it  was  a  very  excellent  dinner,  for  we  had  some 
store  of  our  little  luxuries,  so  there  were  soup,  fish 
(out  of  a  tin),  stewed  steak,  peaches  and  coffee,  and 
we  had  some  whiskey  and  a  few  bottles  of  Perrier. 

58 


MARCHING     BY     NIGHT 

It  is  possible  to  be  quite  comfortable  in  Macedonia  so 
long  as  you  are  near  any  source  of  supplies.  The 
trouble  is  that  you  are  usually  so  far  from  anything 
of  the  kind  that  it  is  only  possible  to  dream  of  the 
things  you  would  like  to  eat  and  drink  and  smoke. 

But  that  was  a  special  kind  of  night  altogether,  one 
of  those  happy  times  when  all  goes  well.  No  one 
seemed  in  a  hurry  to  go  to  bed,  and  when  at  last  I  lay 
wrapped  in  my  blankets  under  the  stars,  it  seemed 
almost  a  pity  to  go  to  sleep.  The  tree-frogs  were  riot- 
ing in  an  orchard  of  pomegranates,  figs  and  apricots 
just  behind  me,  but  there  was  nothing  unpleasant  at 
that  hour  in  their  shrill  calling.  The  North  Star  was 
lower  in  the  sky  than  it  had  any  business  to  be,  but 
there  was  the  sense  of  certainty  that  presenly  I  should 
reurn  to  my  home  and  all  those  things  from  which  I 
was  parted  for  a  little  while.  The  distant  guns  were 
whispering  through  the  air,  but  they  only  spoke  of 
that  day  when  peace  shall  surely  come  again  to  visit 
and  dwell  upon  the  earth. 

Far  beyond  me  rose  the  line  of  the  Seres  road  and 
there  were  the  lights  of  the  ambulances  as  they  came 
rushing  down  with  their  burden  of  broken  men. 


59 


CHAPTER  VI 

CONCERNING   WATER 

THERE  are  quite  a  number  of  riddles  to  be 
solved  when  troops  are  moving  about  Mace- 
donia, and  the  most  constant  of  them  all  is 
that  of  the  water  supply.  There  is  plenty  of  water  in 
the  land — in  winter  there  is  far  too  much — but  it  hides 
away  in  the  most  irritating  fashion,  and  it  has  a  habit 
of  running  in  undesirable  places.  Water  usually  means 
mosquitoes,  and  it  is  necessary  to  avoid  mosquitoes  as 
far  as  possible  if  we  are  to  have  any  army  left  in 
the  country. 

'  In  summer  most  of  the  rivers  dry  up.  If  they  are 
really  large  and  important  rivers  they  may  keep  a  little 
trickle  of  water  running,  but  it  is  hardly  more  than  a 
trickle.  The  Galika,  for  instance,  is  quite  an  impos- 
ing affair  when  rain  is  falling.  Frequently  it  cannot 
be  content  with  one  channel  but  carves  itself  out  two 
or  three  in  addition  to  turning  wide  areas  into  swamp. 
But  when  summer  comes  it  dries  up  to  such  an  extent 
that  only  the  scantiest  driblet  of  water  connects  the 
little  pools  which  remain  to  mark  its  course.  There 
are,  on  the  other  hand,  a  few  little  streams  among  the 

60 


CONCERNING     WATER 

mountains  which  flow  fairly  steadily  all  the  time,  but 
these  are  usually  fed  direct  from  springs. 

The  springs  themselves  are  curious.  A  geologist 
would  probably  find  all  sorts  of  interesting  things  in 
the  country  if  he  were  to  visit  it,  and  work  out  the 
connection  between  all  these  little  underground  rivers. 
It  is  certain  that  there  must  be  a  whole  series  of  such 
hidden  streams.  Over  and  over  again  one  finds  springs 
which  well  out  of  the  rock,  tumble  into  a  little  age- 
worn  basin,  and  vanish.  There  is  nowhere  any  trace 
of  a  stream.  The  water  comes  into  the  light  of  day 
for  a  moment  and  slips  away  out  of  sight.  Very 
probably  it  comes  flowing  out  from  under  another  rock 
miles  away,  pretending  that  it  comes  from  an  entirely 
different  spring.  It  would  be  interesting  to  go  round 
the  country  with  a  few  gallons  of  Condy's  fluid,  treat- 
ing these  vanishing  springs  to  a  dash  of  color,  and  then 
watching  to  see  where  the  decoration  reappeared. 

Certainly  this  vanishing  habit  has  made  things  very 
awkward  for  the  army.  Spring  water,  when  it  comes 
direct  from  the  filtering  rock,  is  usually  pure  and  fit 
for  drinking.  Especially  at  times  of  stress  and  emer- 
gency, there  would  be  a  tendency  to  allow  the  drinking 
of  such  water  without  restrictions.  But  when  it  is 
realized  that  what  appears  to  be  a  spring  may  be  merely 
a  mouth  of  a  subterranean  stream,  it  is  another  matter. 
Higher  up  in  its  course  that  same  stream  may  have 
rippled  through  the  filth  of  a  Macedonian  village.  Its 
water  may  be  loaded  with  micro-organisms  which  will 

6i 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 


do  terrible  things  to  the  stomach  of  the  soldier  and 
render  him  useless  to  the  army  for  months.  When 
these  things  were  realized  the  authorities  began  to  take 
the  water-supply  of  Macedonia  very  seriously  indeed, 
and  the  various  medical  officers  were  told  that  they 
must  be  very  careful  about  it.  For  that,  if  for  no 
other  reason,  I  should  hate  to  be  a  Medical  Officer. 

The  battalion  tramps  into  a  new  camp,  hot  and 
dusty  from  a  long  march  and  very,  very  thirsty.  Theo- 
retically, a  supply  of  guaranteed  water  should  have 
been  brought  on  from  the  last  halt,  but  that  theory 
breaks  down  sometimes.  There  are  the  crowds  of  ex- 
ceedingly thirsty  men,  and  there  is  a  beautiful,  clean- 
looking  spring.  Between  the  two  stands  the  M.O. 
with  a  nasty  little  case  full  of  tubes  and  bottles  and 
similar  rubbish,  and  proceeds  to  make  a  test.  That  test 
takes  half  an  hour  to  accomplish. 

Of  course  we  know  that  it  is  necessary.  Any  man 
with  any  sense  will  admit  as  much,  especially  when 
he  is  not  thirsty.  We  know  that  there  m.ay  be  perils 
innumerable  lurking  in  that  innocent  water,  and  most 
of  us  have  been  too  near  to  dysentery  at  one  time  or 
another  since  we  came  to  the  country  to  desire  any 
closer  acquaintance.  But  one  is  apt  to  be  unreason- 
able after  twenty  miles  of  Macedonia,  if  the  sun  has 
been  shining  most  of  the  time.  Egged  on  by  the  crav- 
ing body,  the  brain  forgets  its  caution  and  hints  that 
even  if  there  is  a  bit  of  risk  the  odds  are  against  any- 
thing happening,  and  anyhow  the  water  looks  per- 

62 


CONCERNING     WATER 

fectly  good — any  one  who  has  ever  been  in  a  similar 
position  can  imagine  the  course  of  that  mental  dis- 
turbance. 

So  quite  naturally  there  arises  a  hatred  and  scorn 
and  loathing  of  the  Medical  Officer.  He  is  seen  to  be 
a  pedant  of  the  worst  type,  a  bigoted  follower  of  the 
rule  of  thumb,  a  person  without  discernment  or  power 
of  independent  thought.  Moreover  he  is  not  content 
with  keeping  us  waiting.  Not  content  with  testing 
the  water,  he  must  needs  be  chlorinating  it.  His  min- 
ions throw  evil  powders  into  it,  so  that  the  good  sweet 
water  becomes  vile  and  an  offence  to  the  palate.  We 
can  even  taste  it  in  the  tea,  and  we  spend  a  hearty  half- 
hour  in  reviling  science,  and  above  all,  its  nearest  ex- 
ponent. Yes,  I  am  quite  sure  that  I  do  not  want  to 
be  a  Medical  Officer. 

But  even  this  chlorinating  business  is  not  the  whole 
of  the  trouble.  It  does  quite  frequently  happen 
that  there  are  two  springs  to  serve  the  camp,  one 
near  at  hand  and  disreputable,  and  the  other  far 
away  and  tolerable.  The  doctor  decides  that  the  water 
from  the  far  spring  must  be  used,  and  immediately 
earns  some  more  unpopularity.  He  is  unpopular  with 
the  men  who  are  told  off  to  guard  the  forbidden  spring 
and  have  to  stay  there  all  day  long  scaring  thirsty  peo- 
ple away.  He  is  unpopular  with  the  men  in  charge  of 
the  water  mules  who  have  to  keep  tramping  to  and  fro 
for  a  mile,  or  it  may  be  a  mile  and  a  half,  to  bring  water 
for  the  varied  needs  of  the  battalion.    And  more  than 

63 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

ever  is  he  unpopular  with  those  who  are  told  that  they 
cannot  have  any  water  yet  because  the  mules  have  not 
come  up.  Any  man  who  goes  looking  for  popularity  is 
a  fool,  but  a  man  who  is  compelled  to  attract  such  an 
amount  of  unpopularity  is  to  be  pitied,  whatever  his 
faults  may  be.  Yet  these  things  have  to  be  done,  that 
His  Majesty's  forces  may  deal  the  more  effectually  with 
His  Majesty's  enemies. 

When  drinking  water  has  been  arranged  for  there 
still  remains  the  business  of  washing,  and  this  is  fre- 
quently quite  as  difficult  a  question.  Really  there  are 
times  when  one  cannot  understand  how  our  men  in 
Macedonia  contrive  to  keep  so  clean.  It  is  bad  enough 
for  an  officer.  Requiring  a  tub  he  sends  his  servant  off 
to  find  some  water.  Having  no  more  than  two  hands, 
the  man  cannot  well  contrive  to  bring  more  than  two 
canvas  buckets  back  with  him,  and  quite  possibly  he  has 
had  to  carry  even  that  amount  nearly  a  mile.  With  a 
couple  of  buckets  of  course  one  can  do  something. 
Even  half  a  bucket  will  go  quite  a  long  way  if  you  are 
careful  with  it,  but  there  is  no  solid  satisfaction  in 
such  a  tub.    At  the  best  it  is  only  a  makeshift. 

But  if  the  officer  with  his  buckets  finds  the  problem 
difficult,  how  does  the  soldier  manage?  He  has  no 
bucket.  Most  probably  the  only  available  water  is  in 
a  mean  little  stream  which  he  must  share  with  a  few 
hundreds  of  his  comrades.  With  that  meagre  supply 
he  must  do  all  his  washing  and  shaving,  and  also  wash 
his  clothes.     Whether  there  is  another  army  in  the 

64 


CONCERNING     WATER 


world  which  would  keep  clean  under  the  circumstances 
I  do  not  know ;  probably  most  of  them  would  not  even 
try,  but  our  men  try,  and  succeed. 

Outside  of  Salonika  I  only  found  one  place  in  Mace- 
donia where  one  could  get  a  real  bath.  That  was  at 
the  standing  camp  of  Janes.  Having  a  plentiful  sup- 
ply of  water,  the  officers  of  the  camp  decided  to  fix 
up  a  place  for  washing,  and  they  did  it  well.  There  are 
big  tubs  in  which  one  can  wallow  with  extreme  joy, 
and  there  are  showerbaths  as  well.  Places  are  provided 
for  men  as  well  as  for  officers,  and  there  is  a  separate 
department  for  washing  clothes.  When  in  our  wander- 
ings we  halted  by  that  camp  for  a  time  and  were  in- 
formed that  we  might  use  the  baths  the  battalion  nearly 
went  mad  with  joy,  and  there  was  a  waiting  list  for 
every  bathing  parade,  while  clothes  were  being  washed 
all  day  long. 

Yet  if  proper  baths  were  scarce,  it  was  occasionally 
possible  for  people  who  were  really  interested  in  the 
matter  to  clean  themselves  thoroughly.  It  all  depended 
on  their  power  of  using  their  opportunities  to  the  best 
advantage. 

We  came  one  day  to  a  camp  which  was  pitched  in 
the  middle  of  a  hot,  blistering  plain.  There  we  re- 
mained for  five  days.  In  the  morning  and  the  eve- 
ning we  did  short  marches  or  a  little  drill,  but  through 
all  the  scalding  hours  of  the  middle  of  the  day  we 
could  do  nothing  but  lie  in  our  bivouacs  and  gasp  for 
breath.     It  happened  that  on  our  second  day  in  the 


<5j 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

place  I  found  a  quiet  little  stream,  and  I  mentioned 
the  fact  to  one  of  the  others  who  had  been  in  the  coun- 
try a  few  months  longer.  Without  asking  any  more 
questions  he  sent  his  servant  for  a  couple  of  shovels, 
and  when  they  arrived,  commanded  me  to  lead  him  to 
the  place. 

The  stream  ran  in  a  bed  which  it  had  carved  for 
itself  at  the  foot  of  some  tall  cliffs.  They  were  so 
high  and  followed  such  a  course  that  the  blazing  sun 
could  not  reach  that  little  rivulet  of  water,  but  it  flowed 
very  happily  in  the  cool  shadow.  It  v.^as  quite  a  tiny 
affair,  nowhere  more  than  three  inches  deep,  and  at 
the  widest  it  was  not  more  than  three  feet  across. 
But  we  had  those  shovels,  and  our  own  intense  desire 
for  a  bath. 

It  is  as  well  to  remember  that,  however  small  a 
stream  may  be,  it  is  bringing  down  fresh  water  all 
the  time  and  will  eventually  fill  up  any  cavity  it 
reaches  and  sweep  away  all  the  mud  you  may  stir  up. 
We  set  to  work  with  those  shovels  and  began  to  dig 
great  holes  right  in  the  bed  of  our  little  stream. 

It  made  a  vast  commotion.  We  were  throwing 
gravel  and  mud  and  stones  to  left  and  right.  All  the 
little  minnows  swam  away  in  terror,  and  a  crab  which 
we  disinterred  made  frantic  attempts  to  hide  itself 
under  a  rock,  but  we  went  on  scooping  and  scraping 
and  excavating,  always  with  a  careful  eye  on  our  own 
dimensions.  If  you  buy  a  ready-made  house  you  have 
to  be  content  with  the  baths  which  the  builder  has 

66 


CONCERNING     WATER 

installed,  unless  you  are  very  rich  and  can  afford  to 
have  them  replaced  by  your  own  size  in  baths.  But 
if  you  make  your  own  bath  you  can  make  it  to  fit  your- 
self. You  can  make  it  long  and  broad  and  deep  enough, 
and  to  prevent  mistakes  you  can  try  it  on  while  it  is 
being  made. 

So  we  dug  our  baths,  and  the  stream  brought  us 
down  an  incessant  supply  of  fresh  water.  A  very  few 
minutes  after  we  had  finished  our  scraping  and  shovel- 
ling we  had  each  a  great,  clear  pool,  and  we  proceeded 
to  enjoy  ourselves.  It  is  a  great  experience  to  sit  in 
water  up  to  your  neck  when  for  months  you  have  had 
to  make  shift  with  a  sponge.  And  the  experience  is 
more  wonderful  still  when  you  know  that  outside  your 
little  patch  of  shade  there  is  the  tormenting  heat  of 
the  sun  at  noon.  We  sat  there  for  hours,  revelling  in 
the  caress  of  the  cool  water,  jumping  out  now  and 
then  to  bask  in  the  sun,  and  returning  once  more  to 
the  touch  of  the  running  stream.  When  at  last  we 
returned  to  the  camp  it  was  with  the  consciousness 
that  we  were  thoroughly  and  effectually  clean,  and  we 
felt  very  superior  to  all  the  unfortunate  people  who 
had  not  known  what  it  was  to  steep  themselves  in  real 
water  for  months. 

Our  superiority  was  short-lived,  of  course.  Others 
found  that  secret  little  stream,  and  we  had  no  copy- 
right in  the  bath-digging  idea.  Two  days  later  the 
stream  v/as  a  series  of  holes  and  in  every  hole  a  soldier 
splashed  and  soaked  and  smiled.    The  only  advantage 

67 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

that  we  gained  was  that,  being  the  first  on  the  scene, 
we  were  allowed  to  keep  our  places  at  the  head  of  the 
stream  and  so  were  not  obliged  to  wallow  in  the  mud 
and  soap-suds  sent  down  by  other  people. 

But  if  you  want  a  hot  bath  in  Macedonia  there  is 
only  one  thing  to  do.  You  must  contrive  to  get  so  ill 
or  so  badly  hurt  that  you  are  sent  into  hospital. 


68 


CHAPTER  VII 

OUR    HOUSES   AND  TIN 

WHEN  one  is  young  the  snail  often  appears  to 
be  an  enviable  beast.  It  seems  such  a  jolly- 
idea  to  wear  your  house  on  your  back,  and 
to  be  able  to  move  without  difficulty  into  the  next  street 
every  time  the  neighbors  start  disliking  you.  It  is  a 
pity  that  we  have  to  grow  up  and  put  away  childish 
things.  If  they  only  retained  that  youthful  envy  of 
the  snail  the  soldiers  of  the  Salonika  armies  would  be 
quite  happy  about  the  fact  that  they  actually  do  carry 
their  houses  on  their  backs,  but  they  are  adult  and  dis- 
illusioned men,  and  I  did  not  meet  one  who  was  really 
glad  to  have  realized  that  dream. 

To  be  sure  our  houses  had  little  in  common  with  the 
snug,  weather-proof  residence  of  the  snail.  They  con- 
sisted simply  of  bivouac  sheets,  together  with  such 
sticks  or  other  supports  as  we  could  manage  to  acquire 
in  the  course  of  our  wanderings.  A  bivouac  sheet  is 
a  piece  of  material  furnished  with  eyelet  holes,  button- 
holes and  buttons,  and  it  is  theoretically  rainproof. 
Many  things  which  are  supposed  to  be  rainproof  lose 
their  reputations  when  they  are  exposed  to  Macedonian 

69 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

storms,  and  anyhow  our  sheets  had  seen  plenty  of 
active  service  and  they  were  getting  tired  of  it.  They 
were  not  even  showerproof. 

Each  man  carries  a  sheet,  and  when  a  new  camp  is 
reached  he  conspires  with  a  comrade  to  make  a  house. 
Architecture  is  a  simple  matter.  Two  uprights  are 
driven  into  the  ground  and  a  cross-bar  lashed  to  the 
top  of  them.  Over  this  the  two  sheets  are  flung  but- 
toned together  so  as  to  make  one  long  sheet.  The  free 
ends  are  pegged  to  the  ground,  and  the  result  is  a  little 
triangular  canvas  tunnel  in  which  two  men  may  lie 
side  by  side  or  one,  if  he  is  very  careful,  may  sit  up- 
right. If  the  two  try  to  sit  upright  at  the  same  time 
the  house  usually  falls  down.  The  edifice  is,  of  course, 
open  at  each  end  unless  they  are  very  short  men  who 
can  afford  to  leave  enough  to  lap  over  and  join  at  one 
end,  when  the  place  becomes  a  cave  instead  of  a  tun- 
nel. Old  soldiers  learn  in  time  the  trick  of  acquiring 
an  extra  sheet,  and  with  three  sheets  between  two  men 
a  very  tolerable  little  place  can  be  made,  but  there  is 
the  disadvantage  that  some  one  has  to  carry  the  extra 
sheet. 

The  officer  is,  of  course,  a  little  better  off.  He  is 
not  compelled  to  share  his  tunnel  with  anybody  else, 
and  the  number  of  sheets  which  he  owns  is  only  lim- 
ited by  the  ingenuity  of  his  servant  or  the  weight  of 
his  kit.  Also  he  does  not  have  to  construct  the  house 
himself — though  many  officers  find  it  necessary  to  lend 
a  hand,  for  the  really  good  servant  is  a  rare  bird.    But 

70 


OUR     HOUSES     AND     TIN 

in  all  other  respects  he  is  on  terms  of  perfect  equality 
with  the  men,  and  if  a  storm  arrives  he  is  as  thorough- 
ly soaked  as  any  of  them.  He,  too,  has  to  solve  the 
problem  of  turning  over  in  bed  without  wrecking  his 
home.  He,  too,  must  abandon  dignity  when  he  wants  to 
go  indoors  and  enter  crawling  warily  on  hands  and 
knees.  And  when  the  occasional  whirlwind  approaches, 
he,  too,  must  cling  to  his  dwelling,  and  hold  on  with 
might  and  main  lest  the  whole  affair  go  dancing  over 
the  crest  of  the  local  mountain  to  hide  in  some  remote 
valley. 

For  a  real  house  rock  is,  of  course,  an  admirable 
foundation,  but  it  is  quite  another  matter  when  you 
are  trying  to  raise  an  erection  of  canvas  and  sticks, 
and  the  fact  that  Macedonia  is  largely  composed  of 
rocks  is  not  the  least  of  the  troubles  of  the  bivouac 
builder.  The  uprights  and  the  pegs  cannot  be  driven 
into  the  ground.  There  may  be  a  thin  layer  of  soil, 
but  it  is  not  enough  to  hold  them  if  it  begins  to  blow, 
and  you  are  painfully  conscious  that  the  whole  affair 
is  ready  to  collapse  at  the  first  opportunity.  You  go 
round  it,  tenderly  and  lovingly,  seeking  to  strengthen 
it  where  you  may,  but  when  all  is  done  the  thing  is  as 
frail  as  a  card  castle.  But  the  ingenuity  of  the  British 
soldier  is  unfailing.  Once  in  the  days  of  my  ignor- 
ance I  had  been  putting  up  my  bivouac  by  myself  and 
striving  valiantly  to  drive  home-made  pegs  into  marble 
of  superior  quality.  My  servant  had  been  delayed, 
but  when  I  was  perspiring  irritably  and  trying  to  think 

71 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

of  appropriate  things  to  say,  he  appeared  and  took 
charge  of  the  situation.  Instead  of  trying  to  drive 
pegs  into  the  ground,  he  organized  a  system  of  anchors. 
The  uprights  were  stayed  by  cords  fastened  round 
great  lumps  of  rock.  More  lumps  of  rock  took  the 
place  of  pegs,  until  the  whole  was  made  generously 
secure,  and  he  went  about  the  task  of  arranging  the 
furniture  with  an  honest  endeavor  to  hide  his  opinion 
that  I  was  a  foolish  person  who  should  never  have  been 
allowed  so  far  away  from  home.  I  left  him  to  it,  and 
went  away  to  watch  where  the  shells  were  bursting 
along  the  ridge  of  a  little  hill  just  by  Doiran.  When  I 
returned  the  place  was  ready  for  me  to  take  posses- 
sion. 

Camp  furniture  in  Macedonia  is  rudimentary.  In 
England  the  newly-gazetted  subaltern  buys  many  beau- 
tiful things  made  of  wood  and  Willesden  canvas.  If 
he  is  wise  he  leaves  them  in  England;  if  he  carries 
them  as  far  as  Salonika  he  will  have  to  leave  them 
there.  Camp  beds,  baths,  tables  and  chairs  are  pleas- 
ant things  to  own,  but  there  is  not  enough  transport 
to  carry  them  round  the  country.  He  will  be  firmly 
discouraged  if  he  tries  to  take  with  him  anything  but  a 
canvas  bucket. 

Even  so,  a  great  deal  can  be  done  to  make  a  bivouac 
look  like  a  home ;  it  all  depends  on  the  sort  of  servant 
you  find.  Mine  was  a  very  wonderful  person.  He 
would  set  out  the  shaving  tackle,  the  two  or  three 
books,  and  the  other  scanty  odds  awd  ends,  all  ar- 

72 


OUR    HOUSES    AND     TIN 

ranged  on  boxes  which  he  always  seemed  able  to  find. 
Somehow  (one  does  not  inquire  into  these  matters)  he 
acquired  a  big  piece  of  canvas  and  stitched  it  up  into  a 
long  bag  which  he  stuffed  with  dry  grass  and  made 
into  a  most  admirable  mattress.  And  also,  wherever 
we  went,  he  had  a  knack  of  discovering  sheets  of 
corrugated  iron  wherewith  to  enlarge  and  strengthen 
the  sides  of  the  house.  That  is  the  final  proof  of  the 
expert  in  Macedonia — the  power  to  find  corrugated 
iron  when  no  one  else  can  find  any.  It  is  the  most 
desirable  substance.  If  you  can  find  enough  of  it, 
you  can  make  yourself  a  dwelling  into  which  the  rain 
cannot  enter,  which  the  wind  will  not  greatly  disturb. 
You  can  make  a  little  palace  for  the  mess  and 
arrange  shelter  for  the  cook-house  so  that  the 
weather  will  not  disturb  the  due  order  of  the  meals. 
Given  enough  corrugated  iron — known  throughout 
the  country  and  in  all  the  rest  of  this  book  as  "tin," 
you  can  make  yourself  really  comfortable. 

In  the  beginning  I  suppose  the  tin  came  to  Salonika 
addressed  either  to  the  Engineers  or  to  the  Army  Serv- 
ice Corps  (to  whom  the  good  things  of  life  do  habitu- 
ally and  automatically  address  themselves).  Probably 
it  was  sent  out  by  trustful  people  in  official  positions 
who  imagined  that  it  would  all  be  used  for  holding  up 
the  sides  of  trenches,  aiding  in  the  construction  of 
bomb-proof  shelters,  or  building  stores  for  perishable 
goods  and,  perhaps,  little  huts  for  favored  brigadiers. 
But  when  the  army  started  housekeeping  on  those  hills 

73 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

M"  ■»»-»«-»iSt'^«'«'-««'-«~»»  ■■■-■'■ ■■I— I.I.— ..!■  I  J    I, 

and  found  that  there  were  to  be  no  tents  because  they 
were  too  heavy  to  be  carried  about,  it  began  to  realize 
the  possibiHties  of  tin.  Ever  since  then  the  Engineers 
and  other  people  who  have  some  sort  of  official  right 
to  the  stuff  have  been  finding  themselves  compelled  to 
send  for  more,  and  yet  more  of  it,  for  their  stocks  do 
so  consistently  and  mysteriously  vanish. 

You  cannot  hide  a  store  of  tin  from  battalions  who 
have  been  long  enough  in  the  land  to  learn  the  value 
of  it.  Some  one  will  ferret  out  the  secret,  and  those 
precious  sheets  will  vanish.  Once  we  were  camping 
among  the  hills,  far  enough  from  everywhere  and  every 
one  for  three  weeks.  Soon  after  our  arrival  we  dis- 
covered three  miles  away  a  little  hut  which  seemed  to 
have  been  put  up  at  some  time  or  other  as  a  signal 
station.  All  we  were  concerned  about  was  that  no  one 
had  been  left  to  take  care  of  it,  and  a  couple  of  limbers 
very  quickly  transferred  it  to  our  camp  where  it  was 
re-erected  and  made  a  very  superior  mess  for  our  com- 
pany. At  the  end  of  three  weeks  we  had  to  go  off  on 
trek,  on  another  spirited  attempt  to  find  the  war.  We 
knew  that  we  should  only  be  gone  a  little  while,  so 
we  took  the  hut  to  pieces  and  hid  the  sheets,  as  we 
thought,  quite  cleverly.  We  were  gone  just  a  week, 
and  when  we  returned  every  strip  of  tin  had  vanished, 
but  down  in  a  valley  a  mile  away  the  officers  of  a  de- 
tachment of  pioneers  offered  us  hospitality  in  a  hut 
whose  roof  and  walls  were  entirely  familiar.  It  is  a 
little  difficult  to  accuse  your  hosts  of  stealing  your 

7i 


OUR    HOUSES     AND     TIN 

house,  especially  when  you  stole  it  yourself  in  the  first 
place.  The  only  remedy  open  to  us  was  to  find  and 
annex  another  stack  of  the  precious  sheets. 

The  result  of  this  blending  of  tin  and  bivouac  sheets 
is  to  give  the  average  camp  a  terribly  disreputable  ap- 
pearance. I  reached  the  land  from  England  by  way 
of  Egypt.  In  Eg^/pt  we  had  had  all  the  tents  we 
needed,  and  our  camps  looked  very  nice  out  there  on 
the  edge  of  the  desert.  It  had  not  occurred  to  us  that 
you  could  have  a  camp  without  tents.  They  were  as 
much  a  matter  of  course  as  the  adjutant  or  the  bat- 
talion postman.  But  when  I  reached  the  camp  among 
the  Macedonian  mountains  there  was  a  revelation  wait- 
ing for  me.  Not  one  tent  was  to  be  seen  anywhere. 
There  were  only  the  rows  of  the  tiny  bivouacs,  and  the 
orderly  room  and  the  mess  and  all  the  other  important 
places  were  just  huts  built  of  rusty  corrugated  iron, 
looking  for  all  the  world  as  if  they  had  strayed  out  of 
a  patch  of  allotment  gardens  at  home.  The  whole 
affair  looked  so  shabby  that  one  wanted  to  go  off  and 
apologize  to  somebody  for  it. 

But  presently  bugles  were  calling  down  the  lines  and 
the  men  came  out,  and  presently  the  battalion  was  on 
parade.  They  stood  there  in  shirt-sleeves  and  khaki 
shorts,  the  summer  drill  order  of  the  Salonika  armies. 
Their  arms  and  their  bare  knees  were  burned  as  brown 
as  their  faces,  and  their  equipment  was  frayed  and 
worn  but  easy-fitting,  and  worn  with  an  accustomed 
air.    When  they  marched  off  they  went  with  the  care- 

75 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

less,  confident  swing  of  men  who  have  learnt  to  dis- 
regard the  miles,  who  have  learnt  and  are  masters  of 
their  trade.  And  one  realized  that  the  peculiar  ap- 
pearance of  the  camp  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with 
the  business,  that  this  curious  cross-bred  product  of 
a  gipsy  caravan  and  a  market  garden  was  the  home  of 
real  soldiers. 

Later  one  learnt  how  swiftly  those  curious  camps  of 
ours  could  be  struck  and  pitched  again.  Pitching  a 
camp  in  England  was  always  such  a  long,  laborious 
business.  The  lines  had  to  be  marked  out  with  in- 
finite care,  and  the  tents  could  only  be  raised  with  the 
aid  of  all  sorts  of  sergeant-majors  and  similarly  au- 
thoritative persons.  But  with  these  queer  little  can- 
vas houses  and  these  perfectly  trained  men,  there  was 
no  confusion,  no  delay.  Ordered  to  move  oflf,  each 
man  packed  his  share  of  his  dwelling  in  his  valise  with 
the  rest  of  his  goods.  Ordered  to  halt  and  encamp,  the 
bivouacs  rose  as  by  magic  in  neat,  comely  ranks  and 
their  inhabitants  proceeded  to  make  themselves  at 
home. 

Of  course  it  often  happened  that  we  reached  the 
camping  ground  too  late,  or  were  to  stay  there  too 
short  a  while  to  put  up  bivouacs,  and  then  every  one 
slept  in  the  open  with  only  the  sky  for  a  roof.  It  is  a 
very  excellent  way  of  sleeping,  but  there  are  just  two 
drawbacks.  In  the  first  place,  the  sun  does  occasion- 
ally get  up  before  the  soldier  needs  to  rise,  and  he 
awakens  all  the  myriad  insects  of  the  land  which  in 

7^ 


OUR     HOUSES     AND     TIN 

their  turn  proceed  to  arouse  every  sleeper  within  their 
radius.  And  in  the  second  place  it  does  sometimes 
begin  to  rain  in  the  night,  and  a  man  who  can  sleep 
with  drops  of  rain  pattering  on  his  face  is  a  bit  of 
a  curiosity  among  such  a  roof-sheltered  race  as  ours. 
In  winter,  of  course,  things  are  very  different,  but 
then  in  winter  the  troops  are  not  moved  about  the 
country  with  the  apparently  aimless  gaiety  which  is 
the  rule  in  summer.  They  stay  long  enough  in  one 
place  to  make  more  enduring  habitations,  and  there  is 
a  great  digging  and  building  as  dug-outs  and  shelters 
are  prepared.  On  the  line  between  SalamanH  and 
Dudular  there  are  some  wonderful  dwellings  to  be 
seen,  carved  into  the  side  of  a  cliff,  and  fitted  with 
doors  and  windows,  and  photographs  of  these  and 
similar  luxuries  have  appeared  in  the  papers  from 
time  to  time.  But  I  have  never  yet  seen  a  photograph 
to  illustrate  the  accident  which  befell  a  friend  of  mine 
down  by  Jerakaru.  His  dug-out  had  been  constructed 
without  sufficient  study  of  the  habits  of  the  local  flood?. 
It  was  a  nice  dug-out,  with  a  good,  high  sleeping  shelf, 
and  he  was  very  proud  of  it.  But  there  came  a  night 
of  rain,  and  in  the  morning  when  he  awoke  he  found 
that  he  had  the  option  of  staying  in  bed  till  the  flood 
subsided  or  taking  a  plunge  into  about  four  feet  of 
icy  water  in  which  all  his  possessions  were  swimming 
disconsolately  round  his  home.  That  is  the  kind  of 
thing  which  is  liable  to  happen  to  any  one  stationed  on 
low-lying  ground  in  the  rainy  months,  and  to  be  flooded 

77 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

out  of  your  camp  is  just  a  part  of  the  routine.  If  it 
does  nothing  else  it  adds  to  the  appreciation  of  the 
rum  ration. 


7* 


CHAPTER  VIII 

RATIONS    AND    THE    DUMP 

GOING  to  the  war  in  Macedonia  is  not  an  ex- 
citing business,  because  there  is  so  much 
Macedonia  and  so  little  war.  There  are  not  many 
of  the  quick  alarms  which  are  supposed  to  haunt 
the  soldier  day  and  night.  It  is  true  that  the  guns 
keep  pounding  away,  but  there  is  so  much  room 
for  the  shells  to  fall  and  burst  without  hurting  any 
one.  Even  on  patrol  actions,  those  nocturnal 
amusements  of  the  people  on  the  Struma,  the  man 
■who  gets  hit  is  usually  more  astonished  than  any- 
thing else.  A  party  of  our  men  had  been  out  doing 
some  searching  of  the  ground  on  the  other  side 
of  the  river  one  day  last  summer.  They  had  had 
a  few  shots  fired  at  them,  but  no  one  had  been 
touched,  and  they  returned  at  last  to  their  de- 
fences and  the  officer  in  charge  of  them  found  his 
company  commander  haying  tea  at  the  door  of 
his  dug-out.  He  sat  down,  with  his  back  towards 
the  river,  to  have  a  cup  and  to  make  his  report. 
Suddenly  he  rose  to  his  feet.  "I'm  hit,"  he  said 
quietly,   and   walked   off   to   the    dressing   station, 

79 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

while  the  others  stared.  But  it  was  quite  true. 
Some  enterprising  Bulgar  far  away  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river  had  fired  a  shot  at  random,  high 
in  the  air ;  it  had  caught  him  in  the  back,  and  gone 
clean  through  his  body,  and  when  I  went  to  see 
him  in  hospital  he  was  still  puzzling  over  it.  "J^st 
think  of  it !"  he  said.  "I  was  through  some  of  the 
hottest  of  the  shows  in  France  in  the  first  year 
and  never  got  a  scratch,  and  now  I  get  plugged 
while  I'm  sitting  down  having  tea!  What  can 
you  call  such  rotten  luck  as  that?" 

Whatever  else  you  may  call  it,  it  does  not  seem 
much  like  war  as  we  have  known  it  on  the  Western 
front.  It  is  just  the  kind  of  irritating  thing  which 
does  happen  in  Macedonia,  and  it  is  hard  to  say 
anything  else  about  it.  He  had  not  even  the  con- 
solation of  being  hit  in  the  ordinary  course  of 
duty,  and  he  was  intensely  annoyed.  And  that 
mood  of  intense  annoyance  is  one  which  becomes 
very  familiar  after  a  few  months  in  the  country. 
It  seems  so  desperately  futile.  There  is  the  war 
to  be  attended  to.  One  joined  the  army  and  learnt 
numerous  strange  lessons  in  the  hope  of  being 
allowed  to  help  to  attend  to  it.  One  came  to  this 
exceedingly  uncouth  land  in  great  joy,  feeling  that 
at  last  the  chance  had  come  and  that  all  the  many 
months  of  training  were  to  have  their  fulfilment. 
Also  one  is  in  the  presence  of  the  enemy.  It  is 
possible  to  sit,  as  I  have  sat  many  a  day,  on  the 

80 


RATIONS    AND    THE     DUMP 

hills  above  the  Struma  and  look  at  Bulgars  through 
field-glasses.  Those  are  the  people  whom  it  is  one's 
business  to  vex,  to  harass,  and  destroy.  Back  in 
the  camp  are  the  keen-eyed,  eager  men  with  their 
carefully  tended  rifles  and  their  sure,  steady  hands 
and  their  constant  burden  of  ammunition,  and  they, 
too,  are  annoyed,  for  nothing  is  given  them  to  do 
but  to  make  roads,  to  dig  trenches,  and  to  put  up 
barbed  w^ire  in  places  which  it  does  not  seem 
humanly  possible  that  the  enemy  can  ever  reach. 
We  all  appear  to  be  as  remote  from  the  task  we 
wanted  to  undertake  as  when  we  were  still  in 
England,  and  perhaps  our  annoyance  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at.  Swords  may  not  have  been  beaten 
into  ploughshares  in  Macedonia  last  summer,  but 
bayonets  were  pretty  generally  put  aside  for  pick- 
axes, to  the  intense  disgust  of  their  owners.  Of 
course  we  knew  nothing  of  the  plans  of  the  higher 
commanders.  We  could  only  see  the  things  within 
the  circle  of  our  own  horizon ;  we  could  only  note 
what  happened  to  us  from  time  to  time  and  draw 
our  own  conclusions  from  those  happenings.  Every 
now  and  then  some  order  w^ould  come  which 
seemed  to  indicate  that  at  last  we  were  going  to 
fight,  and  we  would  forget  to  be  annoyed  for  a 
little  while.  But  in  a  very  few  minutes  some  pes- 
simist would  come  along  with  the  remark  which 
we  learned  to  hate  and  to  dread  more  than  any 
other  arrangement  of  words — "The  A.S.C.  say  that 

8i 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

if  we  do  advance,  they  can't  feed  us/'  That  sen- 
tence was  the  passing-bell  of  our  hopes  over  and 
over  -^jain,  and  when  we  read  in  papers  sent  out 
from  home  that  we  were  sure  to  do  something  be- 
fore long,  we  used  to  say  it  to  ourselves  once  more, 
and  subside  into  blasphemous  silence. 

In  every  matter  save  that  of  food  and  ammuni- 
tion we  were,  I  suppose,  as  mobile  a  force  as 
any  leader  could  desire.  The  Salonika  armies  un- 
derstand moving  about  with  the  least  possible 
delay.  Trained  to  the  country,  accustomed  to 
march  as  well  by  night  as  by  day,  carrying  our 
houses  on  our  backs,  we  needed  only  to  be  fed  and 
to  be  supplied  with  ammunition.  But  that  v/as  the 
difficulty,  and  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter. 

Wherever  he  goes  the  soldier  takes  with  him 
his  emergency  ration,  the  little  tin  of  meat,  the 
other  little  tin  which  contains  tea  and  sugar,  and 
the  handful  of  biscuits.  He  carries  these  things 
about  with  him,  but  he  does  not  eat  them.  Some- 
where or  other  in  my  kit  is  a  much-traveled  tin  of 
bully  beef  that  has  been  to  see  all  sorts  of  queer 
places  in  Egypt,  has  wandered  over  most  of  the 
map  of  Macedonia,  and  visited  quite  a  number  of 
hospitals  on  the  way  home,  and  that  is  the  proper 
way  to  treat  an  emergency  ration.  All  the  time 
you  have  it  you  know  that  you  are  assured  against 
starvation,  so  you  must  keep  it  and  never  eat  it, 
under  pain  of  dreadful  penalties,  for  it  is  only  de- 

8s 


RATIONS    AND    THE    DUMP 

signed  to  last  for  one  day,  and  when  that  is  over 
you  are  finished  altogether. 

If  some  one  could  invent  a  new  kind  of  soldier 
who  could  carry  with  him  a  week's  supply  of  food 
in  addition  to  all  his  other  tackle,  we  should  have 
a  new  kind  of  war  immediately,  but  as  it  is,  the  \ 
man  must  be  within  reasonable  distance  of  his 
supplies.  And  that  means  that  wherever  he  goes 
there  must  be  a  dump  somewhere  fairly  close  be- 
hind him.  If  you  are  told  to  proceed  to  any  new 
place,  the  first  question  is  always  "Where  is  the 
dump?"  Water  can  always  be  found  somewhere 
or  other,  and  you  have  the  doctor  with  his  box  of 
tubes  and  powders  to  make  it  fit  for  you  to  drink. 
Fire  and  shelter  you  can  provide  for  yourself  out 
of  what  you  may  find  and  the  burdens  w^hich  you 
carr}^,  but  unless  you  can  find  a  dump  you  will  be 
lost.  For  as  I  have  pointed  out  in  an  earlier 
chapter,  it  is  not  possible  for  an  army  to  live  on 
the  land  in  Macedonia. 

A  dump,  as  its  name  more  or  less  indicates,  is 
a  place  where  things  are  dumped.  It  consists,  to 
the  outward  eye,  of  a  collection  of  tents  and  mar- 
quees which  live  in  a  constant  whirling  confusion 
of  motor  lorries  and  limbers.  In  the  marquees 
and  around  them  are  mountainous  piles  of  packing 
cases  and  other  matters  which  are  constantly  being 
built  up  and  do  as  constantly  melt  away  and  vanish, 
while  between  them  agitated  men  run  to  and  fro 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

with  little  note-books,  pencils  and  bits  of  carbon 
paper.  You  might  not  think  as  you  stood  watch- 
ing their  frenzied  evolutions  that  they  were  en- 
gaged in  winning  the  war,  but  that  is  very  literally 
and  exactly  their  business  in  life,  and  they  are  doing 
their  best  to  carry  it  out. 

Really  it  is  time  that  people  stopped  throwing 
bricks  at  the  Army  Service  Corps,  and  I  say  so 
with  the  more  sincerity  because  I  have  thrown  a  few 
myself  in  my  time.  It  is  true  that  they  always 
have  the  best  kind  of  jam  in  their  messes,  and 
that  they  never  run  short  of  Ideal  milk.  It 
is  true  that  they  usually  manage  to  keep  them- 
selves supplied  v/ith  fresh  meat,  that  their  teeth 
are  unaccustomed  to  wrestle  with  biscuits  while 
there  is  a  loaf  of  bread  in  the  land,  and  that  ration 
rum  reaches  them  in  generous  measure — but  is 
there  one  among  us  all  who  would  not  take  similar 
care  of  himself  if  he  had  half  a  chance?  When 
I  was  in  the  ranks  we  used  to  sing  insulting 
ballads  to  A.S.C.  men  whenever  they  appeared, 
such  as — 

"With  the  Middlesex  in  the  firing  line 
And   the   Queen's   in   support   behind  them, 
But  when  we  look  for  the  A.S.C. 
I'm  hanged  if  we  can  find  them." 

In  these  and  other  ways  we  did  our  best  to  ex- 
plain our  deep  conviction  that  the  A.S.C.  had  noth- 

84 


RATIONS    AND    THE    DUMP 

ing  whatever  to  do  with  the  war,  that  they  were 
pampered  aristocrats  who  dwelt  in  luxury  and  idle- 
ness among  the  jam  tins  far  behind  the  line,  and 
did  nothing  all  day  long  but  conspire  together  to 
rob  the  poor  soldier  of  his  rations.  But  no  one 
who  has  been  in  Macedonia  for  any  length  of  time 
is  likely  to  perpetuate  those  insults,  even  in  jest. 
We  are  more  likely  to  give  thanks  that  it  was  not 
our  fate  to  get  into  their  ranks,  and  to  pay  them  a  very 
honest  tribute  of  admiration  and  gratitude. 

This  is  a  digression,  but  it  was  necessary.  And 
now  it  might  be  as  well  to  return  to  the  dump,  and 
to  explain  just  what  those  agitated  men  have  to 
do.  Obviously  it  would  be  a  complicated  business 
to  send  out  motors  from  Salonika  every  day  with 
the  stores  for  the  separate  units  which  have  to  be 
supplied.  It  is  much  easier  to  send  out  the  stuff 
in  bulk  and  to  distribute  it  as  close  to  the  line  as 
possible,  and  for  that  purpose  the  dump  is  estab- 
lished. 

A  place  is  chosen  which  has  to  satisfy  three  con- 
ditions. The  first  is  that  it  must  be  connected 
with  Salonika  by  the  best  available  road,  so  that 
there  may  be  the  least  possible  delay  in  keeping  it 
supplied  with  stores.  The  second  condition  is  that 
it  must  be  as  close  as  possible  to  the  advanced  line 
of  troops,  and  the  third  that  it  must  be  in  a  posi- 
tion which  can  be  reached  easily  and  safely  by 
the  units  which  it  is  to  supply.    When  such  a  spot 

S5 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

has  been  found  the  preparations  are  made  and  the 
tents  and  marquees  are  put  up.  Lorries  come 
trundling  over  the  skyline  laden  with  all  those 
things  which  go  to  make  up  the  meals  of  the 
soldier  on  active  service,  together  with  the  food 
for  the  innumerable  mules  and  for  the  occasional 
horse.  As  it  comes  up  each  lorry  hurls  out  its 
load  of  packing  cases  or  sacks  or  bales,  and  they 
are  received  by  busy,  grimy  men  and  piled  in  the 
positions  ordained  for  them  while  the  lorries 
trundle  back  for  more.  There  rises  a  mountain  of 
the  meat  which  journeys  to  the  front  in  tins.  Close 
by  will  be  arranged  a  pile  of  huge  sections  of 
dead  animals  decorously  arrayed  in  sackcloth,  while 
sacks  of  onions  and  potatoes  close  at  hand  suggest 
the  army's  aifection  for  stew.  A  little  further  on 
will  be  the  cases  of  condensed  milk,  tea,  sugar  and 
jam,  and  all  the  time  bread  will  be  arriving  from 
those  excellent  bakeries  which  are  hidden  in  the 
little  valleys  round  Salonika.  Scattered  among  the 
chief  mountains  will  be  the  lesser  mounds  of  those 
various  small  delicacies  which  are  given  to  us  from 
time  to  time  for  the  greater  comfort  of  our  bodies 
and  the  increased  valor  of  our  souls. 

Having  got  all  these  nice  things  so  nicely  ar- 
ranged, and  having  written  a  great  deal  about  them, 
in  his  little  books,  you  might  think  that  the  A.S.C. 
man  deserved  to  be  allowed  to  sit  down  and  admire 
the  result  for  a  little  while,  but  he  is  not  permitted 

86 


RATIONS    AND    THE    DUMP 

such  luxury.  A  dump  is  not  a  museum.  Before 
the  last  lorry  has  got  rid  of  its  load,  the  empty 
limbers  are  rattling  down  from  the  opposite  direc- 
tion, bringing  with  them  men  armed  with  docu- 
ments and  desires.  They  come  from  the  big  camps, 
and  from  remote  secret  places  where  little  detached 
parties  are  busy.  They  come  on  behalf  of  the 
men  in  the  front  line  trenches,  and  of  those  others 
who  are  stealthily  constructing  works  on  distant, 
hidden  hillsides.  The  documents  support  their 
claim  to  rations  for  so  many  men  and  animals. 
They  are  checks  which  must  be  cashed  in  meat 
and  bread  and  fodder. 

There  are  printed  works  on  the  subject  of  ra- 
tions. In  those  works  you  may  learn  exactly  what 
the  soldier  has  a  right  to  receive,  what  must  be 
given  to  his  mule,  and  what  are  the  demands  of  a 
charger  of  over  sixteen  hands.  If  you  gave  me 
all  those  works  and  a  pencil  and  a  great  many 
sheets  of  paper  and  left  me  alone  for  half  an  hour, 
I  might  be  able  to  tell  you  at  the  end  of  the  time 
what  should  be  given  to  a  man  who  demanded, 
say,  sustenance  for  a  hundred  and  fifty  men  and 
seventy  mules.  But  the  A.S.C.  man  is  a  profes- 
sional. He  has  been  at  the  job  a  long  time  and 
he  knows  the  answer  to  all  the  sums,  nor  does 
he  need  to  work  them  out.  He  glances  at  the 
document  which  each  man  brings  and  gives  his 
orders,  and  the  cases  fiy  into  the   empty  limbers 

87 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

till  they  are  subdued  and  sluggish  under  the  weight, 
and  crawl  thoughtfully  out  on  the  way  home. 

It  is  a  dizzy,  bewildering  business  watching  a 
dump  when  everything  is  going  at  full  pressure. 
There  will  be  a  string  of  motor  lorries  for  some 
big,  distant  camp,  threading  through  the  mounds 
of  stuff  and  taking  toll  from  each.  Mixed  with 
them  will  be  the  limbers,  the  puzzled,  rebellious 
mules,  and  the  men  whose  uneasy  business  it  is 
to  control  the  mules.  Everyone  is  working  very 
feverishly  and  the  whole  looks  like  unreasonable 
confusion.  But  as  a  matter  of  fact  there  is  no 
confusion ;  it  is  all  going  quite  smoothly,  and  every- 
body  knows    what   he   is   doing. 

For  wise  battalions — and  most  battalions  ac- 
quire wisdom  after  a  little  time  in  Macedonia — 
do  not  send  novices  to  the  dump.  The  novices 
certainly  get  the  things  they  were  sent  for,  be- 
cause they  hand  in  their  documents  and  the  A.S.C. 
men  do  the  rest,  but  men  accustomed  to  the  job 
sometimes  get  better  stuff.  If,  for  instance,  there 
is  only  a  limited  supply  of  fresh  meat,  and  the 
rest  of  the  day's  issue  must  be  bully  beef,  the  old 
hand  can  frequently  throw  in  a  word  which  will 
obtain  the  fresh  meat  for  his  unit.  Undisturbed 
by  the  tumult,  knowing  exactly  what  he  wants 
and  what  he  is  entitled  to  have,  he  makes  his  way 
round  the  marquees  and  does  obtain,  within  the 
limits,  the  pick  of  the  available  stuff. 

88 


RATIONS    AND    THE    DUMP 

Satisfied  at  last  the  limbers  go  rolling  and 
bumping  back  through  the  valleys  and  over  the 
hills  to  their  homes  where  the  load  they  carry 
must  be  shared  out,  so  much  to  each  company,  so 
much  to  the  transport,  so  much  to  the  officers.  It 
is  quite  certain,  of  course,  that  everyone  will 
grumble.  The  army  always  grumbles,  but  it  is 
so  much  a  habit  that  no  feelings  are  hurt  and  the 
injured  expressions  do  not  reveal  any  genuine  or 
deep-rooted  discontent.  And  really  there  is  not 
often  much  to  grumble  about. 

It  is  all  very  simple,  of  course,  and  there  are 
the  times  when  the  day's  rations  will  consist  of 
very  little  but  a  tin  of  bully,  biscuits,  tea  and  sugar, 
but  even  then  there  may  be  jam,  and  there  is  a 
deal  of  excitement  to  be  gained  out  of  the  business 
of  eating  one  of  those  biscuits  with  jam  unless 
your  teeth  are  in  absolutely  first-class  order.  One 
learns  in  a  very  little  while  to  regard  the  absence 
of  butter  with  indifference,  and  I  fancy  that  quite 
a  number  of  our  men  will  come  back  protesting 
against  the  milk  which  comes  direct  from  the  cow 
and  demanding  instead  those  brands  w^hich  come 
from  the  grocer's  in  tins.  The  one  thing  which 
we  did  miss  and  urgently  desire  was  sauce — all 
kinds  of  sauce.  If  you  can  treat  bully  beef  to 
a  dash  of  Worcester  or  something  of  that  kind  it 
goes  down  so  much  better,  and  this  is  a  hint  which 
anyone  with  friends  or  relations  in  the  Salonika 

89 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

»»--..««~^i.......i..i-«,....«r.«»,»„««,i,..    ^1  M,i,  ^  -«»»■— ,1^ 

forces  may  take.  If  you  are  making  up  parcels, 
include  something  which  will  give  a  zest  to  plain 
fare,  sauces,  relishes,  pickles — all  such  articles  will 
be  more  than  welcome. 


90 


CHAPTER  IX 

HEAT   AND   SOME   ANIMALS 

WHEN  the  war  is  over  and  those  of  us  who 
are  left  come  back  once  more  and  meet  to- 
gether and  talk  over  our  experiences  there  is  likely 
to  be  some  comparing  of  hardships  and  discom- 
forts endured.  For  my  own  part  I  think  that  it 
is  possible  that  those  who  were  through  the  first 
winter  in  France  and  the  first  year  of  the  campaign 
in  Mesopotamia  really  had  the  worst  of  it.  But 
we  have  known  a  little  about  discomfort  in  Mace- 
donia too.  There  is  a  place  called  Giivezne.  .  .  . 
Giivezne  is  a  village,  but  for  army  purposes  it 
gives  its  name  to  a  considerable  tract  of  country 
round — country  which  is  not  far  from  being  the 
most  detestable  in  the  whole  land.  It  is  a  wide 
plain  lying  between  the  hills  that  rise  behind 
Salonika  and  those  others  which  the  Seres  road 
has  to  cross  on  its  way  to  the  Struma.  The  road 
runs  across  this  plain  for  a  distance  of  several 
kilometers,  and  as  one  marches  up  the  views  to 
left  and  right — and  especially  to  the  right — are 
discouraging.    All  that  one  can  see  in  summer  is 

91 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

the  expanse  of  parched,  unhappy  ground  sweeping 
away  to  the  distant  hills.  There  are  no  trees,  nor 
is  there  any  kind  of  shelter  from  the  blazing  heat 
of  the  sun.  The  ground  bears  a  little  wretched 
grass,  and  a  great  many  thistles,  and  nothing  else 
at  all,  unless  one  counts  the  myriad  lizards  as  a 
kind  of  secondary  crop.  It  is  all  as  bleached  and 
dry  and  desolate  as  the  dust-deep  road  itself.  There 
is  water  to  be  found  at  some  little  distance  from 
the  road,  but  it  runs  out  of  sight  in  a  deep  cleft 
in  the  earth;  it  cannot  give  even  one  gracious 
touch  of  green  to  break  that  searing  monotony  of 
light  and  quivering  heat. 

I  have  never  seen  a  stretch  of  land  that  insisted 
more  furiously  upon  being  a  desert.  How  it  is  I 
cannot  say,  but  in  Egypt  one  does  not  get  the  same 
effect  of  desperate  desolation.  The  enormous 
spaces  of  the  sand  are  terrible,  not  horrible.  They 
are  barren  with  a  calm  and  as  it  were  eternal  con- 
tent, and  with  majesty.  But  here  is  no  majesty, 
only  a  mean  and  squalid  futility.  The  sand  has 
no  choice  but  to  be  barren,  but  this  land  might  be 
laughing  with  flowers  and  singing  with  the  little 
whispering  song  of  the  wind  among  the  corn.  It 
is  that  perhaps  which  makes  it  horrible  and  a  place 
of  torment  for  the  body  and  the  soul. 

As  this  plain  is  horrible,  so  is  its  heat  horrible. 
Again  it  is  different  from  other  heat.  There  is  the 
scorching  fury  of  the  blast  that  drives  and  burns 

92 


HEAT     AND     SOME     ANIMALS 


across  the  sand,  and  there  is  the  demoralizing, 
langorous  heat  that  soaks  into  every  fibre  of  the 
being  in  such  a  town  as  Alexandria,  but  the  heat 
of  Giivezne  is  not  like  either  of  these.  There  is 
something  sullen  and  savage  about  it,  something 
poisonous.  It  happened  to  me  to  camp  on  that  plain 
for  two  periods  of  a  week  and  I  would  sooner 
have  a  month  of  the  worst  that  the  African  desert 
can  do  than  spend  a  third  week  there.  It  is  better 
to  be  burnt  up  than  stifled  by  foul,  stale  air  from 
which  all  life-giving  qualities  have  been  drained 
away. 

We  came  to  the  place  by  night,  had  our  meal, 
and  slept  for  a  few  hours  under  the  stars.  We 
awoke  very  early  with  a  distinct  impression  that 
all  the  flies  of  Macedonia  had  gathered  round  our 
camp  to  welcome  us.  By  eight  in  the  morning  it 
was  uncomfortably  hot,  accustomed  though  we 
were  to  the  climate.  Bivouacs  were  put  up  with- 
out delay,  for  it  was  obvious  that  shade  would  be 
badly  needed  soon,  and  no  shade  or  shelter  from 
the  sun  could  we  have  unless  we  made  it  ourselves. 
Two  hours  later  we  were  lying  in  those  bivouacs 
wondering  what  we  had  done  to  deserve  ii,  and 
reflecting  with  uneasy  minds  that  it  was  only  ten 
o'clock. 

A  bivouac  can  be  quite  a  good  shelter  if  it  is 
fortified  a  little.  If  you  can  cut  a  lot  of  scrub  and 
pile  above  it,  and  if  you  turn  its  mouth  to  the  pre- 

93 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

vailing  breeze — if  any — your  little  canvas  cave  is 
at  least  tolerable  during  those  hours  v^hen  the  heat 
compels  people  to  remain  still  and  under  cover. 
But  this  wilderness  had  not  even  scrub  to  give  us, 
and  there  v^as  not  even  the  faintest  suggestion  of  a 
breeze.  There  v^as  only  the  dead,  unmoving  air, 
and  the  sun  v^hich  blazed  through  the  thin  canvas 
sheets  with  so  little  mitigation  of  his  fury.  We 
proceeded  to  spread  blankets  over  the  tops  of  our 
houses,  and  to  wonder  what  more  we  could  take 
off  our  bodies.  But  when  your  clothing  consists 
of  nothing  but  shirt,  shorts,  socks,  puttees  and 
boots,  it  is  very  difficult  to  know  what  you  can 
remove  without  presenting  large  areas  of  your  un- 
happy body  to  the  exploring  feet  of  the  flies. 

For  as  our  misery  increased  so  did  the  swarms' 
of  insects  grow  happier.  They  liked  the  heat. 
They  revelled  in  the  foul,  smothering  air;  the  wil- 
derness was  their  chosen  and  beloved  home,  and 
they  appreciated  it  thoroughly.  Also  they  seemed 
to  have  an  idea  that  we  had  come  there  on  purpose 
to  play  with  them  and  they  meant  to  make  the 
most  of  it.  It  is  bad  enough  to  be  baked  and 
smothered  and  poisoned,  but  when  in  addition  you 
are  invited  to  become  the  playmate  of  a  few 
thousand  flies,  ants,  spiders  and  grasshoppers,  life 
seems  rather  too  much  of  a  burden. 

There  may  be  other  countries  as  densely  popu- 
lated with  insects  as  Macedonia,  but  it  is  a  little 

94 


HEAT     AND     SOME     ANIMALS 

hard  to  believe  that  there  are.  Certainly  the  flies 
are  a  far  worse  plague  than  they  ever  were  in 
Egypt.  Wherever  we  went  they  were  swarming. 
If  we  camped  on  a  spot  where  no  troops  had  been 
before  and  thought  that  we  had  escaped  them,  they 
were  round  us  in  millions  within  twenty-four 
hours.  This  ground  at  Giivezne  had  been  used  for 
camping  before,  and  they  were  all  ready  for  us. 
If  we  never  see  any  more  flies  for  all  the  rest  of 
our  lives  we,  who  spent  those  two  weeks  on  the 
detestable  plain,  shall  have  seen  our  share. 

And  the  flies  form  only  one  of  the  tribes  which 
infest  the  land.  Everywhere  the  ground  is  alive 
with  grasshoppers  of  all  sorts  and  sizes  which  keep 
up  a  continual  chirping  all  the  day,  to  be  succeeded 
by  the  tree-frogs  which  keep  the  night  alive  with 
sound.  Also  there  are  innumerable  ants,  and  in 
many  areas  it  does  not  seem  possible  to  pitch  a 
bivouac  without  having  one  or  two  of  their  holes 
within  the  boundaries  of  one's  dwelling.  Ants, 
however,  do  not  give  much  trouble,  and  they  are 
tidy  little  beasts.  As  you  go  on  with  the  weary 
massacre  of  flies  which  is  the  chief  business  of  the 
day,  they  wait  on  the  floor  to  collect  and  carry 
oflF  the  dead  bodies.  They  seem  to  find  them 
useful. 

Then  there  are  numerous  spiders,  including  one 
most  objectionable  variety,  a  large  and  heavy 
creature  with  a  weakness  for  walking  across  one's 

95 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

face  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  It  is  not  pleasant 
to  wake  up  in  the  middle  of  that  promenade ;  it 
is  still  less  pleasant  to  wake  and  find  that  a  mas- 
sive centipede  three  inches  long  is  doing  the  same 
thing.  Those  centipedes  are  perhaps  the  most 
loathsome  of  all.  They  are  so  big,  so  fond  of 
"going  to  sleep  in  one's  bed,  and  they  look  so 
venomous.  Probably  they  are  perfectly  harmless, 
but  one  instinctively  believes  the  worst  of  such 
creatures  without  waiting  for  investigations.  Also 
one  kills  them  at  sight  and  that  in  itself  is  a  hor- 
rible business.  There  is  so  much  squelching  as  the 
boot  does  its  work. 

When  you  get  away  from  the  insects  the  small 
live  things  of  the  land  are  rather  entertaining. 
Lizards  are  everywhere^  and  they  are  lively, 
friendly  little  beasts.  It  is  a  pity  that  they  feel  so 
much  like  snakes  in  the  dark,  and  newcomers  are 
apt  to  be  a  little  disturbed  at  first,  but  they  soon 
get  used  to  the  small,  bright-eyed  animal  that 
insists  on  a  share  of  bivouac  or  hut.  But  of  course 
the  chief  entertainer  of  the  Salonika  armies  is  the 
tortoise,  the  tortoise  who  stalks  or  occasionally 
gallops  round  the  country,  waving  his  head  from 
side  to  side,  inquiring  into  everything,  carrying  on 
all  his  most  private  affairs  in  the  most  shameless 
publicity,  and  upon  occasion  consenting  to  run 
races  with  others  of  his  kind  for  the  benefit  of  his 
owners  and  sundry  amateur  bookmakers. 

96 


HEAT     AND     SOME     ANIMALS 

If  you  have  only  known  the  tortoise  sleeping 
in  a  corner  of  a  conservatory  or  sluggishly  wander- 
ing round  some  suburban  garden,  you  cannot  im- 
agine hov^  gay  and  alert  a  beast  he  can  be.  Also 
he  is  resourceful  and  given  to  helping  his  com- 
panions in  distress.  I  went  one  day  to  my  bivouac, 
tired  with  a  long  spell  of  road-making,  and 
sprawled  on  the  bed  for  a  rest.  Very  much  to  my 
disgust  I  found  a  large,  hard  lump  beneath  me,  and 
cursing  my  servant  for  spreading  the  bed  on  top 
of  such  a  rock,  I  set  to  work  to  fish  it  out.  It  was 
not  a  stone  at  all,  but  a  large  and  venerable  tortoise 
who  had  burrowed  under  my  blankets  for  a  quiet 
nap.  I  did  not  appreciate  his  enterprise  and  I  was 
annoyed,  so  I  put  him  outside  the  door  on  his 
back,  and  a  big  tortoise  on  his  back  is  one  of 
the  most  helpless  things  in  the  world.  I  lay  there, 
watching  his  frantic  efforts  to  turn  over,  when 
suddenly  another  tortoise  appeared.  There  was  a 
little  intelligent  pushing  and  butting,  and  my  cap- 
tive was  right  side  up  once  more,  and  hurrying  off 
with  his  recuer  to  a  place  of  safety. 

You  may  be  wondering  why  I  should  have  begun 
this  chapter  w^ith  a  large  number  of  complaints 
about  heat  and  a  place  called  Giivezne,  and  then 
rambled  off  into  a  dissertation  on  tortoises.  It  is 
really  quite  simple,  and  the  two  things  are  not  so 
far  apart  as  they  may  seem  to  be.  You  see  in 
those  purgatorial  days  we  had  to  get  through  the 

97 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

time  somehow,  and  all  these  flying  and  crawling 
and  creeping  things  helped  us  to  do  it.  In  a  country 
so  empty  of  occupation  as  Macedonia  at  noon,  it 
is  something  to  have  even  a  tortoise  to  watch; 
there  is  a  little  distraction  in  waiting  to  see  what 
will  be  the  next  move  of  the  lizard  which  is  peering 
so  inquiringly  into  the  entrance  of  the  bivouac. 
So  when  one  begins  to  think  of  those  days  of  torrid 
unhappiness,  one  thinks  also  of  all  those  little 
animals  which  were  our  companions  at  the  time, 
either  as  unendurable  plagues,  or  as  centers  of  a 
little  interest  on  which  the  mind  might  fix  for  a 
while  and  forget  the  slow  passing  of  the  hours. 

One  thinks  of  them  and  of  one  thing  beside — 
of  thirst.  There  is  the  thirst  which  comes  from 
marching  or  from  long  labor,  but  it  is  a  sheer 
pleasure  compared  with  that  thirst  that  comes 
from  lying  still  and  being  smothered  by  the  life- 
less burning  air.  You  can  come  in  fro«m  your 
march,  drink  a  pint  of  anything  that  may  be  avail- 
able, and  get  a  space  of  sheer  happiness  and  con- 
tent. But  when  you  are  just  waiting  for  the 
smoldering  hours  to  pass  there  does  not  seem  to 
be  anything  at  all  that  will  relieve  the  parched 
throat,  and  the  mouth  is  always  dry. 

Besides,  there  is  usually  nothing  to  drink  but 
water  that  is  chlorinated  and  warm.  To  a  genuine, 
toil-born  thirst,  that  would  seem  good  enough, 
but  it  is  only  an  insult  to  the  feverish  craving  that 

98 


HEAT     AND     SOME     ANIMALS 

comes  from  lying  still  and  being  hot.  It  seems  to 
cake  on  the  mouth  and  throat,  so  that  the  misery 
after  drinking  it  is  greater  than  the  misery  which 
went  before.  One  can  only  lie  there  and  dream  of 
real  drinks,  cold  drinks,  drinks  with  none  of  that 
filthy  taste  in  them. 

The  long  day  drags  to  its  close,  and  with  the 
evening  comes  the  return  of  life.  There  is  that 
much  at  least  of  gain  in  the  business.  When  the 
sun  is  almost  on  the  western  hills  one  does  taste 
something  of  the  absolute  joy  of  living.  By  the 
time  tea  is  over — and  scalding  hot  tea  is  a  fine  thing 
for  that  wretched  thirst — the  world  appears  to  be 
a  different  place.  That  is  the  time  when 
people  who  own  guns  go  valiantly  forth  to 
look  for  hares,  when  one  remembers  letters  that 
should  be  written,  and  has  heart  to  discuss  the 
chances  of  really  finding  the  war  at  some  time 
or  other.  It  is  possible  then  to  take  an  interest 
in  the  prospect  for  dinner,  and  to  go  on  excursions 
in  search  of  eggs  and  tomatoes.  The  sunset  is  per- 
ceived to  be  glorious,  and  even  the  thistle-grown 
plain  is  not  quite  such  a  wilderness  as  formerly  it 
had  appeared  to  be. 

There  is  the  comfortable  assurance  that  life  will 
be  quite  tolerable  for  a  matter  of  fourteen  hours, 
and  that  the  flies  will  go  to  sleep.  Of  course  they 
prefer  to  go  to  sleep  inside  the  bivouac  if  they 
can,  and  if  you  let  them  do  that  they  are  quite  sure 

99 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

to  awaken  you  at  sunrise.  The  best  thing  to  do 
is  to  wait  till  they  have  settled  down  cosily  for  the 
night,  so  that  most  of  the  roof  is  black  with  them, 
and  then  get  to  work  with,  a  towel  and  beat  and 
drive  them  out.  They  always  seem  too  sleepy  to 
lind  their  way  back  and  then  when  you  go  to  bed 
you  can  drape  mosquito  netting  over  the  entrance, 
and  there  will  be  no  trouble  about  sleeping  in  the 
morning  till  you  are  officially  awakened  to  get 
through  another  day  of  sun  and  sorrow. 


lOO 


CHAPTER  X 

SUNDAYS   AT   THE   WAR 

WE  left  Giivezne  and  marched  away  up  the 
Seres  road  to  Lahana,  which  stands  just 
below  the  highest  point  which  the  road  reaches 
on  its  journey  from  Salonika  to  the  Struma.  What 
we  did  there  is  a  question  of  no  importance,  but 
we  took  three  weeks  over  doing  it,  and  on  the 
Sundays  we  used  to  go  to  the  war,  because  Sunday 
was  a  holiday  and  we  could  do  what  we  liked.  It 
was  possible  to  start  quite  early  in  the  morning 
because  we  had  left  the  padre  with  the  rest  of 
the  battalion  lower  down  the  road,  so  there  were 
no  church  parades  to  hinder  us.  The  cook  was 
inclined  to  be  grieved  because  he  had  to  get  up  at 
unconscionable  hours  to  give  us  breakfast,  but  that 
could  not  be  helped.  We  had  to  make  the  most  of 
the  holiday. 

It  is  quite  easy  to  get  to  the  war  from  Lahana. 
All  that  you  have  to  do  is  to  stop  the  first  motor 
that  comes  along — so  long  as  it  is  not  a  Red  Cross 
car — and  go  as  far  as  it  will  take  you.  If  it  is  one 
of  those  modest,  retiring  motors  that  does  not  like 

lOI 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

to  push  itself  forward  too  far,  you  can  always 
jump  off  when  it  stops  and  board  one  which  is 
going  further.  Those  lorries  have  to  go  fairly 
close  to  the  trouble.  They  have  shells  to  take  to 
the  batteries,  and  food  for  the  men  in  the  front 
line.  Of  course  they  don't  go  up  to  the  front  line, 
but  there  are  times  when  they  find  themselves 
under  fire.  At  the  period  of  which  I  am  writing, 
the  Bulgar  was  in  the  habit  of  dropping  an  occa- 
sional shell  on  the  road.  His  attentions  did  not 
make  the  road  much  worse  than  it  was  before,  but 
they  served  to  put  a  spice  of  adventure  into  our 
journeying. 

The  proper  thing  to  do  first  of  all  was  to  go  and 
call  on  a  battery.  There  was  always  sure  to  be 
one  about  somewhere,  if  only  you  could  find  it. 
Locating  batteries  is  not  the  easiest  job  in  the 
world,  even  when  they  are  on  your  own  side  and  you 
are  free  to  move  where  you  will  in  search  of  them, 
and  it  is  more  difficult  than  usual  in  Macedonia  be- 
cause the  country  is  so  very  complex.  But  one 
learns  in  time  to  track  the  guns  to  their  hiding 
place  in  some  secret  valley  or  other,  and  there 
they  are,  sending  little  messengers  out  across  the 
river  and  the  plain  to  some  village  which  is 
suspected  of  concealing  the  enemy. 

There  is  at  least  one  thing  to  be  said  in  favor 
of  our  war  in  Macedonia — it  is  possible  to  look 
at  it.     There  is  no  question  of  sitting  dismally  in  : 

102 


SUNDAYS    AT    THE    WAR 

a  trench  and  squinting  round  corners  through  a 
periscope.  When  you  are  up  with  a  battery,  you 
can  generally  watch  the  shells  arrive  at  their  jour- 
ney's end,  which  is  much  more  satisfactory  than 
being  informed  through  a  telephone  that  some  in- 
visible target  has  been  hit.  It  is  possible  to  sit 
on  a  hill  above  the  guns  and  see  quite  plainly  what 
they  are  doing.  You  may  watch  a  village  being 
literally  taken  to  pieces. 

It  is  all  rather  curious.  One  cannot  feel  much 
sympathy  for  the  average  Macedonian  village.  It 
does  not  look  as  if  anybody  loved  it;  if  one  had 
the  dreadful  misfortune  to  be  born  in  such  a  place 
one  would,  I  think,  desire  most  urgently  to  forget 
the  fact.  But  even  so  it  is  not  possible  to  forget 
that  it  was  once  the  habitation  of  men,  and  that 
children  played  round  those  ugly  little  houses  be- 
fore war  came  and  sent  the  bullock  wagons  creak- 
ing down  the  road.  It  all  seems  rather  a  pity. 
.  .  .  But  presently  interest  gets  the  better  of 
emotion,  and  one  watches  with  an  increasing  pride 
the  careful,  accurate  work  of  the  men  at  the  guns, 
as  bit  by  bit  the  village  jumps  into  the  air  amid 
a  cloud  of  dust  and  vanishes.  How  such  accuracy 
is  achieved  one  cannot  tell,  but  there  it  is,  and 
it  is  a  fascinating  thing  to  watch. 

Observed  under  those  conditions,  war  becomes 
almost  impersonal.  Instead  of  being  a  thing  of 
passion  and  emotion,  it  is  a  cold-blooded  game  of 

103 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

skill,  in  which  all  the  players,  down  to  one's  very 
self,  arc  just  pawns.  Possibly  the  enemy  is  trying 
to  find  and  silence  the  battery,  and  his  exploring 
shells  are  bursting  at  varying  distances  around.  It 
docs  not  matter.  There  may  be  a  consciousness 
that  if  one  shell  landed  at  one's  feet  the  conse- 
quences would  be  disastrous,  but  then  it  seems — and 
is — so  very  unlikely  that  any  shell  would  land 
in  so  inconvenient  a  spot,  that  the  question  of  per- 
sonal peril  simply  does  not  arise.  So,  too,  if  the 
glasses  show  little  figures  flying  from  the  village 
below,  and  some  of  them  crumple  up  and  fall — 
it  does  not  feel  as  if  the  final  catastrophe  had 
overtaken  some  human  beings;  it  is  simply  that 
some  pawns  have  been  removed  from  the  board. 
It  is  all  in  the  game,  the  fate  of  those  little  distant 
figures,  the  fate  of  the  men  one  knows,  one's  own 
fate.  Those  shells  bursting  around  do  not  stand 
for  the  menace  of  pain  and  death  so  much  as  for 
tokens  of  the  enemy's  failure  to  be  as  clever  as 
our  men.  The  gunner  is  more  of  a  scientist  than 
a  warrior,  and  the  emotions  he  gets  out  of  war 
are  not  unlike  those  which  you  find  in  golf  or 
cricket,  or  any  game  of  skill. 

If  you  wish  to  get  down  to  the  stark  realities 
of  war,  outpost  and  patrol  work  can  be  recom- 
mended. Charging  trenches  or  other  positions  is 
all  very  well  for  war-frenzy,  but  the  night  work 
is  the  thing  to  drive  home  the  sheer  facts  of  con- 

104 


SUNDAYS    AT    THE    WAR    

flict  and  peril  and  the  worth  of  individual  supe- 
riority. Sometimes  if  you  go  down  from  the 
batteries  to  call  on  the  men  in  the  front  line  they 
will  let  you  lend  a  hand  if  anything  is  going  to 
happen.  It  is  necessary  of  course,  to  be  careful 
how  you  invite  yourself,  and  to  avoid  attracting 
the  attention  of  commanding  officers  and  adjutants. 
It  is  not  altogether  that  they  want  the  whole  affair 
to  themselves.  They  arc  not  so  much  greedy 
over  the  war,  as  concerned  about  what  might 
happen  to  them  if  by  chance  you  were  killed  while 
on  their  hands,  and  they  were  called  upon  to  ex- 
plain why  you  were  there.  I  am  not  aware  of 
any  regulation  forbidding  one  to  go  and  study  the 
war  at  close  quarters,  but  there  are  so  many  regu- 
lations in  army  life  that  one  is  always  apt  to  think 
that  anything  out  of  the  ordinary  must  be  in  diso- 
bedience of  an  order  which  one  has  for  the  moment 
forgotten. 

Going  as  a  member  of  an  outpost  company 
in  unfamiliar  country  at  night  is  always  a  good 
adventure.  The  men  fall  in  so  quietly  on  the  dim 
parade-ground,  wherever  and  whatever  it  may  be, 
and  the  business  begins  to  be  interesting  at  once. 
It  grows  still  more  interesting  when,  with  only 
a  whispered  word  of  command  they  begin  to  move 
oflF  and  vanish,  so  that  when  your  turn  comes 
and  you  follow,  it  is  only  possible  to  see  the  few 
who  are  immediately  in  front  of  you,  and  all  the 

^05 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

rest  are  folded  away  in  the  darkness.  That  is 
the  time  to  test  a  man's  power  of  marching  at 
night.  If  the  battalion  is  without  experience  of 
the  game  that  progress  will  be  slow,  very  uneasy, 
and  very  noisy.  But  the  old  hands  go  very  softly 
and  quickly  onward.  They  avoid  obstacles  at 
whose  existence  they  can  scarcely  guess;  they 
choose  the  surest  way  by  instinct,  and  never  do 
they  commit  that  major  crime  of  showing  them- 
selves on  the  skyline. 

Outpost  work  in  Macedonia  is  so  fascinating 
because  the  country  varies  so  incessantly  and  so 
greatly.  There  is  a  different  problem  to  solve 
every  time.  You  have  to  choose  the  line  which,  in 
your  opinion,  can  be  held,  and  then  you  have  to 
make  your  arrangements  for  holding  it,  and  that 
in  a  country  of  innumerable  hills  and  valleys. 
There  come  to  the  mind  all  sorts  of  crowding  pictures. 
The  golf  enthusiast  goes  about  the  country  planning 
imaginary  links  across  each  fresh  landscape ;  the  soldier, 
if  he  is  just  an  ordinary  infantryman,  is  more 
likely  to  be  arranging  outpost  schemes.  And  when 
it  is  night,  and  the  tangle  of  hills  is  suggested 
rather  than  seen,  and  roving  bands  of  the  enemy 
may  be  anywhere  in  the  darkness,  the  game  be- 
comes really  worth  playing.  Sitting  now  in  quiet 
security  and  looking  back,  one  sees  how  good  a 
game   it   was. 

One  night  there  was  a  sharp  little  rock  strewn 

1 06 


SUNDAYS    AT    THE    WAR 

hill  to  climb,  and  the  ridge  of  it  had  to  be  crossed 
somehow.  Luckily  the  ridge  itself  was  covered 
with  great  boulders  and  we  threaded  and  crawled 
through  them  till  we  were  safely  established  on 
the  far  slope.  Then,  just  as  we  were  about  to 
make  our  dispositions  a  messenger  came  back 
from  the  scouts  who  were  pushing  on  ahead.  A 
party  of  the  enemy  was  crossing  our  front.  There 
was  a  quick,  whispered  word,  and  our  men  sank 
out  of  sight  among  the  rocks,  and  no  sound  gave 
warning  of  our  presence.  But  very  soon  there 
were  sounds  which  told  of  the  coming  of  the  others, 
and  they  came  and  passed,  not  twenty  yards  away. 
Their  strength  was  about  equal  to  our  own, 
and,  taking  them  by  surprise,  we  should  have  had 
all  the  advantage,  but  it  was  not  our  business  to 
advertise  our  presence,  and  so  long  as  they  did  not 
turn  towards  our  camp  in  the  rear,  they  must  go 
unharmed  and  in  ignorance.  In  ignorance  they 
went,  turning  back  to  their  own  place,  and  pres- 
ently the  sound  of  their  passing  died  away,  and 
we  could  get  on  with  our  own  work. 

Encounters  of  that  kind  have  been  frequent  on 
the  Struma  front,  and  most  men  who  have  been 
down  there  for  any  length  of  time  could  tell  of 
something  of  the  sort  happening  to  them  when 
they  have  been  out  on  patrol  duty.  Sometimes, 
of  course,  it  is  necessary  or  advisable  to  fight. 
(Rather  I  should  say  it  is  permissible.     There  is 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

no  waiting  for  necessity,  and  the  patrol  commander 
who,  acting  on  strict  orders,  forbids  an  encounter 
is  rather  more  unhappy  than  the  men  under  him.) 
Those  are  the  occasions  when  the  bayonet  does 
some  of  its  deadliest  work.  Shooting  is  usually 
to  be  avoided,  since  it  gives  away  so  much  in- 
formation and  wakes  up  the  artillery,  so  there  is 
the  fierce,  quiet  struggle  in  the  dark,  till  the  sur- 
vivors of  one  side  or  the  other  realize  that  there 
is  nothing  for  it  but  to  slip  away  among  the 
shadows. 

In  these  affairs,  as  in  all  the  Operations  of  war, 
the  tricks  of  chance  are  unaccountable.  One  man 
I  knew  had  a  piece  of  bad  luck  quite  equal  to  that 
of  the  man  who  got  a  bullet  through  his  body 
while  he  was  sitting  at  tea.  This  other  had  been  out 
with  a  patrol.  They  had  had  a  highly  successful  trip 
and  were  returning  unharmed  and  jubilant.  They 
were  close  to  our  lines  when  some  distant  Bulgar 
loosed  off  another  of  those  random  shots  at  the 
sky.  In  its  downward  flight  the  bullet  took  my 
friend's  right  eye  out  almost  as  neatly  as  a  sur- 
geon could  have  done.  He  felt,  so  he  says,  very 
little  pain  either  at  the  time  or  at  any  time  after- 
wards, but  his  disgust  was  tragic.  Later  on  I 
found  him,  still  fuming,  in  a  hospital  in  Salonika, 
roaming  round  the  wards  in  pajamas  and  a  dressing 
gown,  because  he  had  nothing  else  to  wear.  His 
kit  had  vanished.     When  he  was  hit  he  had  only 

io8 


SUNDAYS    AT    THE    WAR 

been  wearing  a  shirt  and  shorts,  and  he  had  been 
waiting  for  some  clothes  for  a  fortnight,  waiting 
for  them  to  come  so  that  he  might  sail  for  home. 
He  seemed  to  consider  that  luck  had  deserted  him 
completely. 

But  on  the  whole  the  Struma  valley  would  be 
quite  a  happy  place  if  it  were  not  for  the  mosqui- 
toes. The  trouble  about  Macedonia  is  that  you 
have  so  many  things  to  fight.  There  is  the  land- 
scape to  be  conquered,  and  the  water  to  be  kept 
in  order,  and  malaria  to  be  opposed,  and  all  these 
things  must  be  done  before  you  can  pay  any  seri- 
out  attention  to  the  Hun  and  his  companions.  So 
on  the  Struma  the  real  weapons  are  mosquito  nets 
and  quinine,  and  the  real  enemy  is  that  deplorable 
insect  which  sits  on  the  side  of  the  bivouac  hang- 
ing its  head  so  sheepishly  in  the  morning  when  it 
has  spent  all  the  night  in  taking  blood  out  of  one's 
body  and  putting  poison  in. 

In  spite  of  mosquitoes,  however,  we  always 
looked  forward  to  those  Sundays.  It  is  true  that 
the  work  we  were  doing  was  important  and  even 
necessary,  but  it  was  very  dull,  and  it  was  not  a 
bit  like  war. 


lOQ 


CHAPTER  XI 

PLAYTIME  IN   MACEDONIA 

PLAYTIME  is  really  a  serious  problem  in 
Macedonia.  While  we  remained  at  Lahana 
and  could  have  those  Sunday  excursions  we  were 
quite  happy,  but  there  were  only  three  such  Sun- 
days, and  then  we  returned  to  the  old,  familiar 
condition  of  having  plenty  of  time  to  spare  and 
absolutely  nothing  to  do  with  it.  I  should  think 
there  never  was  a  country  so  empty  of  the  means 
of  entertainment.  Since  our  transport  usually 
consisted  of  pack  mules,  we  could  carry  nothing 
with  us  that  was  not  absolutely  essential.  The 
weight  of  our  kit  was  constantly  being  checked, 
and  if  it  exceeded  the  standard  of  the  moment 
something  had  to  be  left  behind,  and  our  track  was 
marked  by  abandoned  articles  of  clothing  and  other 
personal  tackle.  Under  those  conditions  the 
utmost  that  one  could  carry  in  the  way  of  appar- 
atus for  recreation  was  a  pack  of  cards,  and  curi- 
ously, few  of  us  had  packs  of  cards  to  carry. 
Even  if  we  had  them,  they  were  hardly  ever  used. 
During  the  whole  of  the  time  I  was  in  the  country 

no 


PLAYTIME     IN     MACEDONIA 

I  only  played  bridge  twice,  till  I  went  into  hospital. 
It  did  not  seem  to  occur  to  us  to  play  games. 

There  were  no  collective  amusements  at  all.  It 
is  possible  that  there  were  in  the  land  battalions 
who  possessed  concert  parties  of  their  own  and  had 
regular  entertainments,  but  I  did  not  come  in  con- 
tact with  them.  It  is  a  little  difficult  to  have  con- 
certs without  a  piano,  and  the  army  is  not  encour- 
aged to  carry  pianos  about  Macedonia.  There  was 
one  in  the  Y.M.C.A.  tent  in  the  old  base  camp  at 
Karaissi,  but  I  did  not  see  another  until  I  was  on 
the  boat  which  took  me  away,  nor  did  I  see  another 
of  the  tents  of  the  Y.M.C.A.  Very  likely  there  are 
units  which  excel  in  camp-fire  concerts,  but  we  had 
no  gifts  in  that  direction.  It  did  not  occur  to  us  to 
sing,  just  as  it  did  not  occur  to  us  to  play  cards,  or, 
indeed,  any  other  games.  I  suppose  we  might  have 
played  football  if  we  had  owned  a  ball,  but  we  had 
nothing  of  the  sort,  and  no  one  felt  the  lack  of  it 
badly  enough  to  send  for  one.  The  various  units 
stationed  in  and  about  Salonika  used  to  play  match- 
es at  times,  but  we  up-country  people  had  nothing 
to  do  with  those  festivities,  nor  any  chance  to  take 
part  in  them. 

Some  units  took  more  pains  to  amuse  themselves 
than  we  did.  I  have  heard  of  at  least  one  battery  of 
the  artillery  which  owned  a  gramophone  and  took 
it  all  round  the  country,  but  of  course  in  the  artil- 
lery there  is  a  chance  to  carry  such  things.     And 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

one  day,  upon  those  hills  north-east  of  Ambarkoj, 
I  discovered  evidence  that  at  least  one  member  of 
the  Salonika  armies  had  a  desire  for  collective 
amusements,  for  the  wind  brought  to  me  across  the 
tangle  of  the  evergreen  oak  a  sheet  of  paper  which 
I  found  to  be  a  copy  of  a  seventeenth-century  mad- 
rigal. It  seemed  a  curious  thing  to  find  there,  on 
those  lonely,  distant  hills,  so  far  from  all  those 
choral  societies  and  glee  clubs  and  the  like  with 
which  we  noise-making  people  delight  ourselves. 
It  is  not  possible  to  understand  why  a  man  should 
have  brought  such  a  thing  so  far  unless  he  had  with 
him  companions  who  would  help  to  sing  it,  and  one 
imagines  that  there  is,  somewhere  in  Macedonia,  a 
battalion  accustomed  to  music.  It  would  have  been 
a  happy  thing  to  have  found  that  cheerful  camp,  but 
all  the  country  round  was  bare  of  troops,  and  the 
madrigal  itself  was  so  weather-worn  that  it  must 
have  been  blowing  to  and  fro  on  those  hills  for  a 
long  time.  I  put  it  in  my  pocket  and  I  have  it  still, 
a  curious  relic  of  the  army  and  of  the  country 
where  for  so  long  our  men  have  had  to  face  the  dif- 
ficult task  of  keeping  out  of  mischief. 

For  of  course  the  natural  thing  to  do  if  you  have 
time  to  spare  and  no  occupation  is  to  get  into  mis- 
chief, and  if  we  had  been  living  under  those  condi- 
tions in  any  ordinary  country  it  is  possible  that 
there  would  have  been  a  great  deal  of  trouble. 
But  the  country  is  so  far  from  ordinary  that  there 

112 


PLAYTIME    IN     MACEDONIA 

was  very  little  trouble  indeed.  There  were  of 
course  shops  in  the  villages  where  liquids  preju- 
dicial to  discipline  could  be  obtained.  On  the 
counter  of  nearly  every  Macedonian  shop  you  will 
find  three  bottles  containing  Vin  Samos,  mastic, 
and  cognac,  and  it  did  happen  from  time  to  time 
that  some  unlucky  private  would  be  taken  with  a 
terrible  thirst,  contrive  to  get  past  the  mihtary 
police  into  the  nearest  village,  and  proceed  to 
empty  bottles  of  cognac.  Then  he  would  return  to 
the  camp  in  a  condition  of  valiant  frenzy  which 
would  lead  him  to  the  guard-room  and  first-hand 
knowledge  of  Field  Punishment  No.  1.  But  such 
incidents  were  very  rare.  Most  of  the  villages  are 
so  small  that  it  is  quite  easy  to  keep  the  thirsty 
souls  out  of  them,  and  our  men  behaved  wonder- 
fully well. 

Their  conduct  was  the  more  creditable  because 
it  frequently  happened  that  for  weeks  at  a  time  it 
was  impossible  to  organize  anything  in  the  shape 
of  a  canteen.  When  the  camp  was  pitched  away 
among  the  hills  where  neither  beer  nor  any  other 
stores  could  be  obtained,  the  canteen  ceased  to 
exist  until  we  moved  to  some  happier  spot,  where 
day  by  day  the  little  bullock  carts  would  come 
rumbling  and  creaking  with  the  barrels,  and  there 
would  be  tinned  fruit,  sardines,  cigarettes  and 
other  luxuries  on  sale,  and  time  v/ould  not  hang 
quite  »o  heavily  on  their  hands. 

1^3 


CAMPAIGNING    IN   THE    BALKANS 

But  even  when  the  canteen  was  in  working 
order  it  could  not  occupy  more  than  a  little  of  the 
spare  time,  and  it  was  always  rather  hard  to  dis- 
cover just  what  the  men  did  with  themselves.  Of 
course  most  of  the  leisure  hours  in  the  hot  weather 
came  in  the  middle  of  the  day  when  the  heat  is  too 
great  for  any  kind  of  exertion.  During  those  hours 
they  would  lie  in  their  bivouacs,  and  sleep  or  talk. 
They  were  great  talkers,  those  lads  of  ours,  and 
they  would  go  on,  hour  after  hour.  What  they 
found  to  talk  about  I  cannot  say,  but  it  is  the  same 
all  through  the  army;  and  you  will  never  find  a 
camp  that  is  not  humming  with  talk  through  every 
idle  hour. 

So  they  would  talk,  and  attend  to  their  clothes 
and  kit,  and  do  their  washing.  There  are  no  laun- 
dries in  Macedonia,  and  the  ladies  of  the  land  have 
not  realized  that  they  could  make  a  very  good 
living  by  taking  in  washing.  Their  general  ap- 
pearance forces  one  to  the  conclusion  that  they 
are  unaccustomed  to  the  idea  of  washing  their  own 
clothes,  so  probably  they  would  be  intensely  aston- 
ished if  they  realized  we  should  be  quite  prepared 
to  pay  them  to  wash  our  things.  But  if  he  can- 
not find  any  one  to  do  it  for  him,  the  soldier  is 
thoroughly  capable  of  doing  his  own  washing,  and 
usually  he  does  it  very  well.  Disdaining  the  slip- 
shod habit  of  using  cold  water,  you  may  see  them 
building  tiny  fires  and  boiling  the  water  in  their 

114 


PLAYTIME     IN     MACEDONIA 

mess  tins,  and  soaping  and  scrubbing  the  clothes 
with  skilful  energy.  One  of  our  men  actually 
owned  a  little  flat-iron,  and  it  was  as  hard-working 
a  piece  of  metal  as  I  have  ever  known.  It  was 
constantly  being  borrowed  by  the  dandies,  who 
sought  to  increase  the  beauty  of  their  shirts  or 
to  give  a  finer  finish  to  their  socks.  And  I  know 
that  my  washing  was  done  as  I  have  rarely  had 
it  done  by  any  laundry  at  home.  The  soldier  has 
the  trick  of  doing  thoroughly  all  the  infinitely 
varied  jobs  which  he  may  have  to  undertake. 

It  is  possible  that  many  men  will  bring  back 
hobbies  from  Salonika.  It  was  quite  interesting 
to  notice  on  hospital  ships  and  in  hospitals  on  the 
way  home  how  many  owned  those  little  pocket 
chess  boards  and  sets  of  pieces  which  can  be  folded 
into  the  shape  and  size  of  a  note  case.  Then  there 
were  others  who  had  taken  up  sketching,  and  some 
who  had  carried  round  little  volumes  of  poetry 
and  read  them  till  they  knew  every  line  by  heart. 
There  is,  of  course,  nothing  to  read  in  the  up- 
country  camps  except  the  Balkan  News,  and  such 
books  and  papers  as  may  be  sent  from  home.  There 
can  be  no  camp  libraries,  nor  are  there  any  of 
those  distributions  of  papers  and  magazines  which 
brighten  the  life  of  our  men  in  France.  In  conse- 
quence everyone  reads  everything  that  comes  from 
cover  to  cover,  and  advertisements  get  an  amount  of 
attention  which  would  make  the  fortune  of  the 

^^5 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

advertisers  if  only  their  shops  were  not  so  far 
away.  Papers  and  magazines  and  books  are  passed 
from  hand  to  hand  while  they  will  hold  together, 
and  nobody  minds  what  he  gets  hold  of  so  long 
as  it  is  some  print  which  he  can  read.  If  you 
see,  as  I  have  seen,  an  entirely  illiterate  Irishman 
poring  over  the  Saturday  Reznezu  it  does  not  mean 
that  ours  is  the  most  intellectual  army  the  world 
has  ever  known.  It  only  means  that  he  is  very 
bored  with  the  cycle  of  his  thoughts  and  that 
printed  words,  incomprehensible  though  they  may 
be,  are  giving  him  a  little  blessed  relief.  I  have 
known  what  it  is  to  be  profoundly  charmed  and 
affected  by  the  information,  gleaned  from  the 
columns  of  a  local  weekly,  that  Mrs.  Smith  of 
Smith  Villa,  requires  a  house-parlormaid,  that 
there  arc  three  in  the  family,  that  two  other 
servants  are  kept,  that  the  wages  offered  are  £18, 
and  that  an  abstainer  is  desired.  If  I  had  not 
been  soaking  up  those  details  I  might  have  been 
listening  to  some  one  who  would  say,  **But  the 
A.S.C.  say  that  if  we  do  advance  they  can't  feed 
us.  .  .  ." 

Everybody  knows  that  people  whose  working 
hours  are  full  of  the  most  violent  physical  exer- 
tions do  quite  commonly  seek  more  exertions  when 
playtime  comes,  and  so  it  was  with  us.  Every  now 
and  then  the  entire  camp  would  seem  to  be  taken 
with  a  mania  for  hurling  large  stones  about.    You 

ii6 


PLAYTIME     IN     MACEDONIA 

would  see  men  standing  in  rows  and  throwing 
great  pieces  of  rock  in  the  fashion  laid  down  for 
the  throwing  of  bombs,  and  they  might  keep  it 
up  for  half  an  hour  in  a  valiant  contest.  Our  bomb- 
ing expert  was  usually  in  the  thick  of  these  out- 
bursts of  energy,  improving  the  occasion  with  a 
few  words  of  advice.  He  was  one  of  those  en- 
thusiasts who  believe  utterly  that  the  war  can  only 
be  won  with  the  aid  of  their  own  special  line,  and 
nothing  would  have  pleased  him  more  than  to  have 
had  a  whole  battalion  of  bombers. 

One  other  amusement  we  had  which  called  for 
plenty  of  exertion,  and  was  occasionally  profitable 
to  the  mess.  We  used  to  get  our  revolvers  and  go 
out  looking  for  hares.  Macedonia  is  simply  alive 
with  game  in  certain  areas.  It  seems  impossible 
to  walk  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  without  putting 
up  a  covey  of  partridges  or  a  great,  galloping  hare. 
To  go  hunting  hares  with  a  revolver  is  quite  amus- 
ing, though  of  course  it  is  not  regarded  with  favor 
by  those  aristocrats  who  have  shot  guns  and  treat 
themselves  seriously  as  purveyors  of  game.  But 
if  you  have  no  gun,  and  are  very  weary  of  seeing 
large  quantities  of  desirable  food  escaping  from 
you  it  is  soothing  to  take  your  Wcblcy  for  a  walk 
round  the  hills.  Of  course  it  is  more  a  matter  of 
luck  than  anything  else.  A  service  revolver  is  a 
wonderful  weapon  with  a  great  range,  but  it  takes 
a  crack  shot  to  put  a  bullet  into  a  retreating  hare, 

117 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

and  so  to  hit  it,  moreover,  that  the  animal  shall 
not  be  reduced  to  a  shapeless  mash  of  fur  and  flesh 
and  splinters  of  bone.  But  if  by  some  fluke  the 
bullet  just  chips  the  head,  the  prospect  for  to- 
morrow's dinner  is  suddenly  and  wonderfully  im- 
proved, and  there  is  ample  recompense  for  three 
hours  of  scrambling  over  rocks  and  through  thick- 
ets of  brambles. 

The  evening  was  the  time  when  we  went  on 
those  excursions,  and  the  evenings  of  Macedonia 
do  very  much  to  atone  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  And 
it  was  good  to  come  back  to  the  camp,  and  to  sit 
on  a  bank  outside  the  bivouac  watching  the  pageant 
of  the  west,  listening  to  the  guns  as  they  grew 
busy  with  the  evening  performance.  That  was 
the  time  when  the  mess  president  would  send  for 
the  jealously  guarded  bottles  and  we  would  sit 
through  that  half-hour  before  dinner,  quite  cheer- 
fully discussing  the  things  we  had  discussed  half  a 
hundred  times  already,  having  recovered  from  the 
weariness  and  irritation  of  the  day,  being  at  peace 
with  the  world. 

That  was,  perhaps,  our  only  real  recreation,  the 
only  game  we  played  consistently — just  that  game 
of  sitting  and  talking  in  the  delicate  evening  air 
when  all  the  work  was  done  and  our  bodies  were 
tired  enough  to  get  the  full  flavor  of  enjoyment  out 
of  rest.  Probably  they  were  very  monotonous  con- 
versations,  but   indeed   they   do   not   seem   so   in 

ii8 


PLAYTIME     IN     MACEDONIA 

retrospect.  The  memory  of  those  hours  is  very 
pleasant.  And  there  was  always  something  to 
watch,  if  it  was  only  the  shifting  of  color  on  land 
and  sky  or  the  slow  departure  of  the  light. 

We  learned  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  be  amused. 
I  fancy  that  many  of  those  who  return  will  find 
that  a  gulf  has  established  itself  between  them  and 
the  friends  who  have  remained  at  home.  When  at 
last  I  was  set  free  to  be  with  my  own  people  for 
a  little  while  it  was  with  an  actual  sense  of  sur- 
prise that  I  realized  that  it  was  considered  usual 
to  go  out  in  the  evening  to  theaters  and  music 
halls  and  concerts,  to  dine  at  restaurants,  to  play 
games,  and  generally  to  avail  one's  self  of  the 
elaborate  machinery  of  entertainment.  That  ma- 
chinery seemed  to  have  lost  all  purpose  and  value. 
It  did  not  appear  that  there  was  anything  of  worth 
in  the  activities  of  the  professional  entertainers ;  it 
seemed  so  much  better  to  sit  still,  to  talk  a  little 
from  time  to  time,  to  revel  in  that  little  space  of 
rest  and  dear  companionship. 

I  suppose  there  is  something  which  tends  to 
simplicity  in  such  a  life  as  that  which  we  were 
leading — a  simplicity  which  is  not  of  the  surface, 
but  deeper.  We  did  not  acquire  scorn  of  pleasant 
food,  of  good  clothes  and  comfortable  beds,  but 
our  minds,  unwearied  by  the  complexities  of  mod- 
ern civilization,  did  not  require  such  labored  amuse- 
ment.    They  were  content  with  a  little  dreaming 

lip 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

as  the  flames  of  the  camp  tires  went  stabbing  up- 
wards; for  long  enough  to  come  we  shall  find  a 
sufficient  splendor  in  sitting  at  the  close  of  day 
by  our  own  hearths  swathed  in  the  secure  com- 
forts of  peace. 


ISO 


CHAPTER  XII 

HOW  WE  WENT  TO  JANES 

TO  US  at  Lahana  there  came  orders  to  pack  up 
our  traps  and  depart  in  haste  to  a  place  called 
Janes,  on  the  other  side  of  the  country.  It  may  be 
as  well  to  remark  that  it  is  not  customary  to  pro- 
nounce this  name  as  if  it  was  the  plural  of  Jane. 
It  is  more  usual  to  make  the  sound  Yanesh,  with 
the  accent  on  the  -esh.  The  letter  j  in  Macedonian 
names  has  the  force  and  qualities  of  y,  and  if  this 
is  remembered  there  will  be  no  difficulty  with 
them.  It  is  true  that  even  so  the  pronunciation 
will  not  be  exactly  that  of  the  people  who  live  in 
the  villages,  but  no  arrangement  of  letters  would 
do  justice  to  the  noises  they  produce,  and  they 
always  understand  when  we  speak  the  names  in 
our  own  fashion. 

So  much  for  the  name.  Janes,  as  the  map  will 
show,  is  a  place  which  lies  behind  the  Doiran  front. 
It  was  the  pleasure  of  the  authorities  to  send  us 
from  time  to  time  to  sit  down  behind  different 
portions  of  the  front,  to  listen  to  other  people 
busy  with  the  war.    We  never  knew  why  we  were 

121 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

sent.  It  did  not  appear  that  anybody  ever  wanted 
us,  nor  did  anybody  seem  glad  to  see  us.  But 
it  was  an  order,  so  we  tramped  to  and  fro  across 
the  country,  gaining  much  knowledge  of  hill  and 
valley  and  mountain  track,  and  hoping  eternally 
that  at  the  end  of  each  journey  we  should  really 
find  the  war.  There  is  something  very  cheering 
about  the  tidings  that  the  battalion  is  ordered  to 
make  haste  to  a  distant  place.  It  sounds  as  if 
something  is  really  going  to  happen  at  last,  and 
that  thought  is  enough  to  banish  all  weariness. 
In  this  instance  the  orders  came  at  eight  in  the 
evening  after  a  hard  day's  work,  and  it  was  stated 
that  we  were  to  be  ready  to  march  out  at  ten. 
Nothing  but  the  prospect  of  a  fight  at  the  end  of 
the  journey  could  make  troops  cheerful  under  such 
conditions.  To  be  told  to  pull  down  your  house 
and  pack  it  up  just  when  you  are  thinking  of  crawl- 
ing indoors  and  going  to  sleep  is  depressing. 

But  rumors  help  one  round  some  awkward  corn- 
ers in  the  army.  Within  an  hour  the  camp  had 
been  swept  away  and  folded  up.  Down  in  the 
transport  lines  mules  were  entering  their  usual 
protests  against  pack  saddles,  and  little  groups 
of  officers  were  poring  over  maps  by  the  light  of 
the  dancing  flames  of  candles.  We  knew  those 
maps  by  heart,  but  we  could  never  resist  the  temp- 
tation to  stare  at  them  on  such  occasions.  It  was 
as  though  we  hoped  to  discover  something  that 

122 


HOW    WE    WENT    TO    JANES 

would  improve  our  chances  of  getting  into  the  fir- 
ing Hne,  as  though  they  held  the  secret  of  our 
fate  concealed  among  their  innumerable  contours. 
And  as  we  traced  the  way  we  talked,  eagerly  and 
happily,  and  for  a  long  time  no  one  thought  to 
quote  that  classic  saying  of  the  A.S.C.  which  had 
killed  so  many  of  our  dreams. 

So  it  came  to  be  ten  o'clock,  and  under  the 
light  of  the  stars  we  scrambled  across  a  mile  of 
furiously  broken  country  to  our  old  friend  the 
Seres  road.  The  length  of  time  which  a  battalion 
requires  to  get  under  way  at  night  depends  very 
exactly  on  its  experience.  If  it  is  a  new,  half- 
trained  unit  there  are  delays  which  spoil  tempers, 
and  the  adjutant  rides  up  and  down  the  line  with 
fury  increasing  in  his  heart.  But  there  are  no  such 
troubles  when  you  have  old  hands  to  deal  with. 
Everything  slips  into  its  place  swiftly  and  easily. 
The  transport  does  not  go  wandering  off  across 
country  in  the  opposite  direction,  and  the  ammuni- 
tion mules  are  ready  behind  their  companies.  Far 
away  in  England  we  had  objected  to  night  opera- 
tions, but  in  Macedonia  we  realized  what  we 
gained  through  having  been  trained  and  drilled 
in  the  dark.  In  a  very  little  while  we  were  moving 
off  down  the  road. 

Somewhere  between  Likovan  and  Giivezne — its 
exact  position  is  a  matter  of  no  importance — there 
exists    a    rest    camp,    established    for    the    use    of 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

troops  whose  business  it  is  to  move  on  the  road. 
Why  it  was  pitched  in  the  particular  position  which 
it  occupies  I  do  not  know;  it  is  possible  that  no- 
body knows.  To  be  sure  there  is  a  convenient 
water  supply,  but  there  is  nothing  else  to  recom- 
mend it.  It  is  arranged  on  a  series  of  sharp  little 
ridges,  with  deep  ditches  and  gullies  crossing  it 
in  all  directions.  When  the  marching  men  come 
to  the  gate  of  it  they  are  met  by  others  bearing 
lanterns  who  proceed  to  conduct  them  through  the 
perilous  gloom.  In  most  places  it  is  necessary  to 
go  in  single  file,  and  for  a  battalion  to  pass  a  point 
in  that  fashion  takes  some  time.  More  of  the  lan- 
tern-bearers take  charge  of  the  transport,  and  lead 
it  off  to  another  place,  so  that  you  are  effectually 
divorced  from  your  kit  and  stores.  The  ground 
reserved  for  officers  appears,  in  the  darkness,  to 
be  so  cleverly  fortified  by  ditches  that  no  one 
could  possibly  reach  it  unless  he  had  spent  his  life 
in  studying  the  arrangements.  By  the  time  you 
get  to  that  high  bank,  and  see  below  you  the  little 
lights  which  mark  the  lines  where  the  men  are 
resting,  and  a  dim,  distant  confusion  which  con- 
ceals the  transport  and  all  your  blankets,  you  are 
apt  to  be  out  of  love  with  Macedonia. 

It  was  my  fate  to  come  twice  to  that  camp,  each 
time  on  a  dark  night.  In  the  morning  it  looks 
rather  pretty  and  there  is  a  good  view,  but  nothing 
can  persuade  me  that  it  is  a  nice  camp,  or  that 

124 


HOW    WE    WENT    TO    JANES 

the  man  who  chose  such  a  position  for  it  has  a 
kind  heart.  On  this  occasion  we  reached  it  be- 
tween one  and  two  in  the  morning,  and  the  fact 
that  we  had  been  there  before  did  not  make  things 
any  easier  for  us.  It  was  nearly  an  hour  and  a 
half  before  the  tangle  was  straightened  out  and 
the  blankets  appeared,  so  that  wq  could  roll  our- 
selves up  and  sleep  for  a  brief  two  hours.  We 
left  the  place  soon  after  five,  and  marched  off 
down  the  road  once  more,  on  the  second  stage  of 
our  journey. 

If  you  look  at  a  small  map  of  Macedonia  you 
may  wonder  why  we  were  going  down  the  Seres 
road  to  get  from  Lahana  to  Janes.  It  will  seem 
that  the  more  direct  way  would  have  been  across 
country  by  Rahmanli  and  Kukus,  but  if  you  study 
a  really  large  map  you  will  see  why  we  had  to 
work  back  towards  Salonika  first.  Lahana  stands 
on  its  hill-top  in  the  heart  of  a  great  tangle  of 
hills.  To  travel  direct  from  there  to  Kukus  would 
mean  an  endless  swarming  up  high  places,  an  end- 
less scrambling  down  into  sudden  valleys.  A  very 
few  strong  and  well-practised  men  might  make 
the  journey  in  the  time  we  took  over  the  detour, 
but  it  would  be  impossible  for  a  battalion  with  its 
transport  to  travel  that  way  without  the  most 
serious  loss  of  time.  The  vSeres  road  is  indescrib- 
ably bad,  but  it  is  the  only  way  across  those  hills 
which  is  in  the  least  practicable.    There  is  no  other 

^^5 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

way  of  getting  to  Lahana  which  an  army  could 
use.  Five  miles  away  on  either  side  of  the  road 
you  might  dwell  remote  and  inaccesible,  untroubled 
by  the  motions  of  the  world. 

The  hills  run  up  from  a  point  just  north  of 
Salonika  in  a  fairly  well  defined  range  which  parts 
the  valley  of  the  Galika  and  the  plain  to  the  west 
of  it  from  the  valley  of  the  Kurudere  and  the  plain 
which  holds  Giivezne.  To  the  north  of  Ambarkoj 
the  hills  spread  out  fanwise,  and  go  piling  up  in 
heaped  confusion  all  the  way  to  the  Struma  valley. 
The  only  way  of  getting  from  the  Struma  to  the 
Doiran  front  is  to  travel  down  almost  to  Giivezne 
and  then  to  strike  westwards  and  across  the  hills 
at  Ambarkoj  by  way  of  Salihli.  That  route  is  prac- 
ticable in  summer,  if  you  have  nothing  very  heavy 
to  drag  with  you,  but  in  all  rainy  weather  it  is 
quite  impossible,  for  then  the  dry  beds  of  streams 
become  fierce  torrents  with  power  to  sweep  a 
man's  feet  from  under  him.  Either  you  must  make 
bridges,  or  you  must  go  round  by  some  other 
way  where  bridges  are  already  in  existence. 

But  though  summer  had  passed  into  autumn  the 
rains  had  not  yet  come,  so  we  went  to  Giivezne, 
rested  there  on  that  unhappy  plain  through  the 
heat  of  the  day,  and  turned  our  faces  to  the  west 
in  the  evening.  Being  as  it  is  the  gate  between 
the  two  fronts  with  which  our  men  are  concerned, 
I  suppose  nearly  every  unit  in  the  Salonika  force 

1^6 


HOW    WE    WENT    TO    JANES 

has  passed  that  way  at  one  time  or  another,  and 
has  known  the  relief  of  climbing  from  the  plain 
where  the  flies  make  a  constant  cloud  about  man 
and  beast  to  the  hills  where  they  drop  away  and 
leave  one  in  peace.  Certainly  the  people  of  Salihli 
are  quite  accustomed  to  the  passing  of  the  army, 
and  they  have  learnt  more  of  our  ways  and  desires 
than  most  of  the  villagers  ever  trouble  to  learn. 
Directly  the  column  appears  in  sight  there  is  a 
mighty  searching  and  ransacking  of  all  the  places 
where  the  fowls  do  commonly  lay  the  eggs,  and 
then  the  population  lines  up  by  the  roadside  ready 
to  do  business.  The  Macedonian  egg  is  not  cheap. 
Almost  everywhere  a  drachma — which  is  tenpence 
— is  charged  for  four,  but  eggs  are  much  to  be 
desired,  and  though  some  may  object,  every  one 
pays.  The  right  thing  to  do  when  you  are  entering 
Salihli  is  to  work  towards  the  head  of  the  column 
and  do  your  shopping  before  the  others  come  up, 
or  all  the  eggs  will  be  sold,  and  the  natives  will 
only  have  tomatoes  and  woolly-hearted  melons  to 
offer. 

We  reached  our  camping  ground  above  Am- 
barkoj  at  eight  in  the  evening,  having  covered 
twenty-four  miles  in  twenty-two  hours.  That 
would  be  little  enough  in  a  civilized  country,  but 
in  Macedonia  it  is  rather  more  than  it  sounds,  and 
we  were  weary  people.  But,  high  on  those  hills, 
there  was  enough  light  remaining  for  the  arrange- 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

ments  for  the  night  to  be  made  properly,  and  for 
the  cooking  to  be  done.  There  was  a  comfortable 
meal  for  everyone,  and  when  it  was  over  we  sat, 
very  many  of  us,  looking  towards  the  hills  which 
fence  Lake  Dorian,  watching  for  the  flash  of  the 
bursting  shells,  full  of  the  contented  weariness 
which  is  the  great  reward  of  such  campaigning  as 
ours.  We  slept  late  the  next  morning.  Our  orders 
were  to  reach  Janes  in  the  evening,  and  it  did  not 
seem  necessary  to  arrive  earlier.  We  breakfasted 
at  ease  between  nine  and  ten,  and  proceeded  to 
pack  once  more,  taking  our  time  about  it,  refusing 
to  be  disturbed.  We  moved  out  of  the  camp  in 
leisurely  fashion  at  1  p.m.,  breaking  for  the  first 
time  that  rule  which  forbids  marching  in  the  middle 
of  the  day.  We  were  whole-hearted  admirers  of 
the  rule  by  the  time  we  had  finished  the  journey. 
Every  soldier  can  remember  one  march  which 
stands  out  as  the  worst  of  all  his  experience.  Usu- 
ally it  occurs  in  the  course  of  his  training,  while 
he  is  being  broken  to  the  burden  of  his  new  life, 
but  it  does  occasionally,  through  force  of  circum- 
stances or  by  reason  of  the  malice  of  the  enemy, 
come  later.  That  march  from  Ambarkoj  to  Janes 
was  the  most  abominable  I  have  ever  known,  and  I 
suppose  if  I  live  to  be  an  old  man  with  lots  of 
small  people  round  me  who  want  to  know  what 
I  did  in  the  great  war,  I  shall  bore  them  to  death 
with  accounts  of  it. 

128 


HOW    WE    WENT    TO    JANES 

The  personal  side  of  the  matter  is  utterly  unim- 
portant, but  that  small  experience  does  stand  as 
a  very  fair  specimen  of  the  kind  of  thing  our  men 
have  had  to  put  up  with  in  Macedonia.  Many 
people  seem  to  imagine  that  our  life  in  that  irri- 
tating land  has  been  one  long  picnic,  remote  from 
the  perils  of  war.  It  is  not,  however,  our  fault  or 
our  choice  that  we  had  so  little  actual  fighting, 
and  the  only  sort  of  picnic  which  our  experiences 
could  be  said  to  resemble  would  be  one  in  which 
the  picnic  basket  had  been  left  behind  and  half  of 
the  party  were  more  or  less  ill  all  the  time.  So 
far  I  have  said  little  about  malaria,  the  greatest 
of  our  foes  in  Macedonia.  It  will  be  necessary 
to  say  something  about  it  later  on,  but  for  the 
present  it  is  enough  to  record  the  fact  that  a  touch 
of  the  fever  came  upon  me  just  as  that  march  was 
beginning,  and  remained  with  me  for  four  out  of 
the  five  hours  which  the  journey  occupied.  Add 
to  this  the  facts  that  through  some  misunderstand- 
ing about  the  water  supply,  hardly  anyone  had  a 
drop  of  water  in  his  bottle,  that  the  sun  was  blaz- 
ing over  head,  and  that  our  way  was  deep  in  dust 
where  it  did  not  lie  among  scorched,  ensnaring 
herbage,  and  you  will  realize  that  the  conditions 
were  not  the  most  favorable  that  could  be  im- 
agined. 

But  our  men  have  had  to  march  under  those  con- 
ditions very  many  times.    They  have  had  to  endure 

12^ 


CAMPAIGNINCl    TN    Till-     HALKANS 


the  heal  and  the  ckist  and  the  nKiddcMiinj::  thirst  of 
their   fever-shaken   hodies.  and  all   that  hideous  tor- 
ment of   the   brain   which   at   such   hours   can   find 
no   rest    in    even    \]\c   di'arcst    and    most    sacred   of 
memories,  hul   sees   Iheni   as  thin,u^s  distorted  and 
terrible.     At   such  a  time  one   can  only   keep  up- 
right  nhile   inovinj,^''.     At   every  halt    it   is  necessary 
to  lie  down  (piickly,  till  the  moment  comes  to  move 
forward  aj;ain.      Vo  sit  on  a  horse   would  be   im- 
possible; there  is  nothin^c:  to  do  but  to  go  stagger- 
ing on.     There  are  visions  of  all  cool  springs  and 
dear,  cold   water  which  come  to  cheat   and  baflle 
and    mock,   together   with    recollections   of    all    the 
tleleclable  driidvs  in  the  world.     At  one  time  I  was 
dreaming  of   the  driidc  called  John   C\)llins   which 
they  compound  so  admirably  in   tlu>  Kliedival  Club 
in  Alexandria;  at  another  there  was   the   nietnory 
of  the  lager  beer  which  comes  to  one  in  tall  glasses 
at   the   Cafe   Royal;  again   it    was  a  vision   of   an   imi 
1    know    in    Derbyshire    where    the    good    beer    is 
brought  in  great  earthenware  mugs.     And  all  the 
time   there   w(Te   si)nie   wt)i(ls   from    the    Mass  run- 
ning   a    hopeless,    meaningless    rac<'    through    my 
useless  brain — (jid  vos  [^rd'crsscrKfit  cum  s'ujno  fidci 
ct  (Jorniiiinl  in  soduio  I'Ui'is.     It  was  a  tlioronj^hly  un- 
pleasant business,  and  1  could  not  for  the  life  of  me 
understand   why   the   Romans   foimd   it   necessary   to 
have  two  words  for  "sleep." 

I    want    to   insist   that    T    am   n(>t    writing  of   this 


1MM\'     \V  !■•     \V  ]•■  NT     TO     1  A  NFS 

_ — -> 

i'xpci  icnrc  .»•;  a  li.nil'.lup  wliuli  1  siillcicd  ahuic.  I 
have  no  hard  rase  to  i)i(S(Mit  lor  synM'*^^''*'^'^'  atten- 
tion, llinuhcds  and  thc^nsands  of  onr  men  have 
cMidutcd  as  nnnh  and  mni<-  in  lliat  lotniliv,  and  loi" 
llial  reason  only  tln^  thnij;  is  nnnlioncd.  riu'ir 
snfVcrini^  th<Mr  niisrry.  nnist  be  set  down  to  tlic 
arootnit  ol  the  Salonika  lotce  as  snt(dy  as  the 
aj;;:ony  ot  (he  \vonnd(  <l  is  etcdiled  to  the  acconnt  ot 
our  troops  iti  I'lan*  c  We  wcvc  bitten  by  mos- 
quitoes insl(\i<l  ol"  benij;  sli.it  let  (sl  bv  bnllrls.  bnti 
the  result  was  not  dillcicnt  in  the  end,  and  one 
can  i\n  no  nioic  ibm  j;o  on  sntlerijij;  tip  to  that 
j)oint  where  Nalntc  sends  the  savinj^  pjlt  ol  nn- 
conseionsness  ;  there  is  thai  limit  I"i\(m1  to  all  that 
a  man  (\in  <Mi(hire,  and  il  lias  been  reaelicd  not 
onee  bnt  very  many  times  by  those  who  li.ive 
played  tlH'ir  part  in  tin*  war  by  marehinj;:  nj>  and 
<lown  and  aetoss  Macedonia.  And  there  are  graves 
in  th.il    remote,  mh«)spilaltle  land. 

'riies<>  thin}'s  must  be  written  if  justice  is  to  he 
done.  'There  is  a  j^reat  teiulencv  to  rrj^ard  the 
wounded  ni.in  as  bein}";^  on  a  far  hijdier  plane  tli.in 
the  man  who  met<ly  «(intraeted  sickness  in  the 
service  of  his  count ly.  The  wounded  man  is  ^;iven 
gold  stripes  to  wear.  II  he  i;  .in  ollu  (M  he  is 
jiresented  with  a  larj^e  sum  «d  nioiK  \  .is  a  wound 
gratuity  bnt  iheie  is  nothinr,  lor  the  man  who  has 
merely  fallen  ill.  lie  m.iy  be  one  <d  those  who 
came  away    from   (Jalhpoli   wilh   their  conslilutiotis 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

shattered  beyond  hope  of  repair  by  dysentery;  he 
may  be  tortured  and  twisted  and  crippled  with 
rheumatism  from  the  trenches  in  France;  he  may 
be  so  poisoned  by  malaria  in  Mesopotamia  or  Mace- 
donia, that  the  trouble  will  remain  with  him  while 
life  lasts,  but  in  any  event  there  is  nothing  for  him. 
He  has  no  gold  stripes  or  gratuities,  nor  is  it 
likely  that  his  pension  will  reflect  what  he  endured. 
In  hospitals,  in  convalescent  camps,  and  even  at 
home  in  England,  he  is  given  to  understand  that 
he  is  a  bit  of  a  failure — a  "wash-out"  in  the  slang 
of  the  day — and  not  to  be  compared  with  some 
lucky  youngster  who  has  had  a  finger  shot  off  or 
a  tibia  fractured. 

I  want  to  suggest  that  this  is  damnably  unfair, 
and  I  can  do  it  the  more  freely  because  in  my  own 
case  the  damage  is  unimportant.    The  fact  that  I 
shall  be  liable  for  years  to  attacks  of  malaria  will 
not  affect  my  power  to  earn  my  own  living  after 
the  war,  so  I  am  free  to  speak.     And  I  want  to  ; 
suggest  and  to  say  as  loudly  as  possible  that  the  ' 
men   who   have   been   made   ill   in   the   service   of  I 
their  country  do  deserve  every  whit  as  much  con-  \ 
sideration  as  those  who  have  been  wounded.    Their 
bodies   are   frequently   damaged   to   a    far   greater 
and  more  permanent  degree;  the  damage  was  in- 
curred in  exactly  the  same  service. 

No  one  who  has  belonged  to  the  Salonika  forces 
can  avoid  feeling  strongly  on  this  point.     Every 

^3^ 


HOW    WE    WENT    TO    JANES 


soldier  who  is  invalided  home  is  an  object  of  inter- 
est, at  first.  "Hullo,  where  were  you  hit?'*  is  the 
unvarying  question.  There  comes  the  reply,  "I 
wasn't  hit.  I  was  at  Salonika/'  There  follows  the 
unfailing  comment — "Oh,  I  thought  you  were 
wounded."  And  that  kind  of  thing  is  irritating  to 
a  man  who  knows  that  every  few  months  for  the 
rest  of  his  life  there  will  come  a  time  when  he 
will  wish  with  all  his  heart  that  he  had  lost  a  leg 
or  an  arm  or  an  eye  rather  than  endure  the  misery 
which  is  his  portion. 

Having  said  these  things  I  may  perhaps  record 
the  fact  that  after  four  hours  that  particular  at- 
tack of  fever  passed  off,  and  I  marched  very  happily 
into  our  camp  at  Janes,  as  anxious  as  anyone  to 
know  about  our  chances  of  reaching  the  war. 
There  came  to  us  a  lost,  disconsolate  staff  officer, 
who  desired  to  know  what  we  belonged  to  and 
why  we  had  come. 

"I've  heard  nothing  about  you,"  he  said  when 
his  questions  had  been  answered.  "I'd  no  idea  you 
were  coming,  but  I  suppose  it's  all  right.  No, 
there's  nothing  for  you  to  do  up  here.  The  usual 
strafe  is  going  on  at  Doiran  of  course,  but  nothing 
to  worry  about,  and  you  won't  be  wanted  any- 
how. But  we've  got  heaps  of  blackberries  round 
here,  and  perhaps  your  chaps  would  like  to  make 
some  jam." 

It  was  Macedonia  and  we  were  accustomed  to 

^23 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

Macedonia,  so  we  did  not  say  anything.  There 
are  so  many  occasions  in  that  country  when  speech 
would  be  utterly  inadequate,  and  we  had  learned 
how  to  be  silent.  We  had  marched  to  the  place  y 
in  haste,  but  we  were  not  wanted.  Up  there  by  * 
Doiran  a  few  little  miles  away  the  guns  were 
thundering,  but  we  were  not  required.  The  war 
had  done  without  us  for  so  long,  and  it  was  still 
able  to  worry  along  without  us.  In  the  meantime 
there  were  blackberries,  and  we  had  permission 
and  encouragement  to   make  jam. 

You  may  find  it  hard  to  believe,  but  it  is  written 
in  the  history  of  the  regiment  that  we  settled  down 
in  that  camp  and  proceeded  to  make  jam. 


m 


CHAPTER  XIII 

CONCERNING  SPIES 

TWO  or  three  days  after  we  had  settled  down 
at  Janes,  a  Hun  came  over  to  see  what  he 
could  do  for  us.  There  were  some  anti-aircraft 
guns  between  us  and  the  frontier,  about  three  miles 
from  our  camp,  and  they  did  their  best  to  argue 
with  him.  For  a  full  five  minutes  we  were  admir- 
ing a  pretty  arrangement  of  smoke-balls  which 
fluffed  out  of  nothing  in  positions  all  round  the 
tiny  speck  of  the  aeroplane,  but  he  was  a  wise 
Hun,  and  he  traveled  high  overhead  and  came  sail- 
ing on,  beyond  the  reach  of  the  unpleasant  splinters 
which  our  friends  tried  to  scatter  in  his  way.  He 
came  on  and  on,  and  at  last  he  was  circling  very 
happily  over  our  camp.  If  he  had  not  been  so 
wise,  he  would  probably  have  come  down  a  few 
thousand  feet  to  make  sure  of  his  aim,  taking  his 
chance  of  what  our  rifles  might  do.  As  it  was  he 
dropped  his  bombs  from  something  over  ten  thou- 
sand feet,  and  we  had  only  a  horse  and  a  mule  to 
put  in  the  casualty  list.  But  his  coming  left  us  full 
of  solemn  thoughts  about  the  local  Macedonians. 

^35 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

Every  average  inhabitant  of  Macedonia  is  so 
curiously  inaccessible.  He  lives  in  his  terrible  little 
villages,  and  seems  to  watch  our  progress  with 
sullen,  incurious  eyes.  He  may  stand  upright  for 
a  time  to  watch  the  passing  of  our  men,  but  soon 
he  bends  once  more  to  his  toil  as  though  the  matter 
did  not  concern  him.  If  he  keeps  a  shop  he  will 
sometimes  condescend  to  sell  his  goods,  in  the 
same  sullen  fashion.  He  takes  refuge  all  the  time 
behind  the  barrier  of  his   uncouth   language. 

The  army  has  the  gift  of  tongues  in  no  small 
measure.  I  have  seen  new  drafts  come  out  to 
Egypt,  and  I  have  heard  them  a  fortnight  later  with 
all  sorts  of  Arab  slang  at  the  tips  of  their  tongues. 
Our  men  bring  back  words  in  many  dialects  from 
India,  and  the  South  African  war  made  some  en- 
during additions  to  our  vocabulary.  But  there  is 
another  tale  to  tell  in  Macedonia.  Why  it  should 
be  I  cannot  imagine,  but  no  one  seems  to  pick  up 
the  language.  At  the  end  of  my  own  time  I  only 
knew  three  words.  I  could  make  the  noise  which 
means  eggs,  and  the  other  noise  which  means 
water,  and  one  other  which  is  a  term — probably 
obscene — expressing  hatred  coupled  with  a  burn- 
ing desire  for  the  person  addressed  to  depart  at 
once.  We  had  a  few  men,  born  traders,  who  were 
sent  regularly  into  the  villages  to  buy  eggs  and  fowls 
and  fruit,  but  I  could  never  find  that  they  had 
learnt  much  of  the  language.    They  seemed  to  con- 

136 


CONCERNING    SPIES 


duct  their  business  entirely  by  signs,  and  I  found 
myself  that  the  only  way  to  go  shopping  in  Mace- 
donia was  to  walk  behind  the  counter,  open  all  the 
drawers  and  cupboards  and  inspect  the  stock  for 
myself,  and  then  strike  a  bargain  by  signs.  The 
language  is,  I  suppose,  a  more  or  less  debased  form 
of  modern  Greek,  but  in  many  of  the  villages  there 
is  so  strong  a  Turkish  element  that  Arabic  terms 
are  frequently  understood. 

But  whatever  he  may  understand  of  an  alien 
tongue,  the  Macedonian  makes  no  sign.  He  re- 
mains silent  and  inscrutable.  We  are  in  his  coun- 
try— well,  that  is  our  affair.  It  is  nothing  to  do 
with  him  and  he  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  us, 
unless  we  damage  his  crops.  Then  he  will  come 
demanding  compensation,  if  he  has  no  woman  to 
send  to  speak  for  him.  Of  course  a  certain  number 
of  the  men  of  the  country  have  been  enrolled  in 
labor  battalions  or  hired  to  act  as  muleteers,  but 
the  people  of  the  up-country  villages  remain  un- 
touched, to  outward  seeming,  by  all  the  raging  of 
war.  They  see  our  columns  moving  to  and  fro, 
and  go  on  their  own  way  unheeding.  We  send  our 
fine  new  roads  sweeping  past  their  villages,  but 
they  cling  to  their  time-worn  tracks  and  pass  w^ith 
averted  heads.  They  are  not  even  sufficiently  in- 
terested to  seek  to  make  money  out  of  us  by  cater- 
ing for  our  wants. 

So  it  might   seem  that   these  people  were   de- 


137 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

termined  to  ignore  our  presence  in  the  land,  and 
to  treat  us  as  if  we  did  not  exist — it  might  seem 
like  that  to  anyone  who  did  not  know  the  facts, 
who  had  forgotten  how  the  Hun  set  himself  to 
permeate,  that  he  might  eventually  dominate,  all 
the  Balkans.  The  German  was  in  the  land  before 
us,  and  his  agents  remain  to  bear  witness  of  him. 
Other  maps  are  being  made  in  these  days,  but  for 
long  enough  our  armies  in  Salonika  could  find  none 
but  German  maps  of  the  land — wonderful  maps, 
crowded  with  a  wealth  of  laborious  detail  which 
could  not  smother  blazing  inaccuracies.  The  Ger- 
man influence  which  has  made  Greece  so  bother- 
some is  living  still  in  all  sorts  of  little  villages 
of  the  plains  and  hills  of  Macedonia.  Many  of 
those  sullen,  silent  peasants  have  excellent  reasons 
for  serving  the  German  interest — reasons  which 
take  form  and  substance  in  tangible  rewards.  They 
learned  the  lesson  before  ever  the  war  began  to 
trouble  Europe,  and  they  have  not  forgotten.  Be- 
cause they  have  not  forgotten  that  Hun  came  over 
to  drop  his  bombs  into  our  camp  at  Janes. 

A  camp  which  is  composed  of  bivouacs  is  not  a 
conspicuous  object.  It  nestles  down  so  close  to 
the  ground,  and  there  is  nothing  in  its  coloring  to 
catch  the  eye.  Tents,  even  when  they  have  been 
darkened  and  adorned  with  smudges  of  brown  and 
yellow  and  green  have  their  distinct  and  defiant 
shape   and  are   hard   to   miss.     But   bivouacs   are 

^38 


CONCERNING    SPIES 


hard  to  detect  from  a  distance,  and  a  high-flying 
airman  would  need  to  search  very  carefully  before 
he  found  the  camp.  To  make  sure  that  our  camps 
shall  not  be  missed,  and  to  guide  his  friends  on 
the  other  side  of  the  frontier,  the  innocent  Mace- 
donian strolls  out  of  his  village,  makes  his  observa- 
tions, chooses  a  spot  which  fulfils  his  requirements, 
and  starts  a  prairie  fire.  He  works  on  a  system 
which  is  thoroughly  understood  by  those  whom  he 
seeks  to  assist,  and  in  a  little  while  the  aeroplanes 
are  coming  over  to  investigate  and  perhaps  to  take 
action. 

So  it  is  that  if  a  fire  starts  anyv/here  in  the 
neighborhood  of  a  camp,  or  along  the  line  of  march, 
the  first  thing  to  do  is  to  look  for  somebody  to 
hang.  It  might  be  an  accident,  of  course,  but  such 
accidents  are  not  usual,  and  it  is  better  to  make 
sure.  Following  upon  the  visit  which  we  received, 
a  small  party  went  out  to  pay  some  calls  in  the 
district,  traveling  in  a  motor  borrowed  for  the 
occasion,  and  with  carefully  loaded  revolvers. 
Attached  to  the  party  was  a  Macedonian  who  could 
speak  quite  twenty  words  of  English,  and  claimed 
to  be  a  follower  of  M.  Venezelos,  and  our  devoted 
friend.  In  addition  he  declared  that  he  had  per- 
sonal knowledge  of  all  the  people  of  all  the  vil- 
lages for  miles  around  and  knew  the  records  of 
all  the  bad  characters.  There  was,  he  said,  a  spy 
hiding   in   one   of   the   villages,   a   man   for   whom 


^39 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

the  authorities  in  Salonika  were  searching.  This 
man  we  must  capture,  and  all  would  be  well. 

Motoring  in  Macedonia  is  not  a  pastime  for  the 
idle  rich.  The  way  for  that  journey  lay  along  the 
roughest  of  tracks,  far  from  any  of  the  roads  which 
the  army  has  made.  It  was  a  matter  of  bumping 
painfully  from  one  village  to  the  next,  with  occa- 
sional halts  where  the  whole  party  had  to  turn 
out  to  help  the  car  over  some  particularly  vicious 
little  gully.  And  at  every  village  there  was  a 
weary  round  of  apparently  fruitless  talk.  First 
there  was  a  search  for  the  chief  man  of  the  place. 
Then  when  he  was  found,  our  Macedonian  would 
lead  him  aside  with  an  air  of  gravest  importance. 
The  talk  would  go  on  sometimes  for  as  long  as 
half  an  hour,  and  sitting  in  a  car  under  the  blister- 
ing sun  amid  the  varied  smells  of  a  Macedonian 
village  for  half  an  hour  is  not  pleasant.  Mean- 
while the  inhabitants  would  come  out  to  stare  at 
us  with  lowering  faces.  I  renuember  one  old  wo- 
man. Not  for  a  moment  did  she  cease  her  business 
of  threading  tobacco  leaves  on  a  piece  of  string, 
but  all  the  time  she  was  glaring  at  us  with  the 
deadliest  hate,  the  ugliest,  bitterest  fury  seamed 
across  her  old,  brown  face.  She  might  have  been 
the  mother  of  the  man  we  sought. 

But  always  the  report  was  that  the  elusive  per- 
son had  moved  on  to  the  next  village,  and  to  the 
next  village  we  must  go,  bumping  over  some  more 

140 


CONCERNING    SPIES 


kilometers  of  those  intolerable  tracks,  and  at  last 
we  began  to  cherish  hard  thoughts  about  our  gudie. 
He  seemed  to  feel  that  there  was  trouble  brewing, 
for  suddenly  he  sprang  up  and  pointed  far  out 
across  the  plain  to  where  a  man  moved  slowly 
behind  a  flock  of  goats.  He  was  out  of  the  car  in 
a  moment,  and  racing  over  the  ground  while  we 
toiled  behind  him.  He  reached  the  shepherd  long 
before  we  did,  and  when  we  arrived  he  turned  to 
us  with  a  glum  face  and  an  air  of  intense  depres- 
sion. This,  we  gathered,  was  not  our  man  after 
all.  It  was  his  brother,  a  good  man,  and  a  friend. 
The  man  whom  we  sought —  he  was  far  away.  The 
good  brother  had  not  seen  him  for  many  weeks. 
All  the  foolish  people  who  had  been  directing  us 
had  been  helping  us  to  find  the  good  brother,  and 
now  there  was  nothing  to  be  done.  Everyone  knew 
that  this  was  a  good  man. 

There  are  some  problems  which  are  too  hard 
even  for  the  army,  and  plumbing  the  depths  of  Mace- 
donian character  is  one  of  them.  Perhaps  the  man 
was  lying  all  the  time,  but  we  had  no  evidence. 
We  were  quite  helpless  in  his  hands.  The  stolid 
shepherd  did  not  seem  to  understand  a  word  we 
said;  he  stood  there  behind  the  defences  of  his 
ignorance,  and  there  was  only  the  interpreter  to 
whom  we  could  speak.  We  went  back  to  the  car 
and  bumped  our  way  home  to  the  camp,  very  thor- 
oughly defeated. 


141 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

It  is  not  a  good  idea  to  go  hunting  for  spies  in 
Macedonia  unless  you  have  a  number  of  special 
qualifications,  chief  of  which  are  an  intimate  knowl- 
edge of  the  dialects  of  the  district,  and  some  experi- 
ence of  the  ways  of  the  Eastern  mind.  Without 
these  you  will  only  meet  with  silence  before  which 
you  are  helpless.  You  may  have  your  man  under 
your  hand,  as  we  had  on  this  occasion,  but  still 
he  will  escape,  for  to  make  an  arrest  without  any 
shred  of  evidence  is  mere  foolishness  and  leads  to 
unpleasant  letters  from  the  authorities.  In  this 
case,  as  it  happened,  the  escape  of  the  malefactor 
was  only  for  a  little  while.  A  week  later  our  good, 
friendly  shepherd  was  brought  in  by  another  party 
which  included  a  man  who  really  knew  the  coun- 
try, and  he  was  sent  down  to  Salonika  to  render 
account  of  himself.  What  happened  to  him  I  do 
not  know,  nor  did  any  of  us  inquire.  The  subject 
was  one  which  we  avoided  for  a  long  time.  And 
though  we  sought  diligently  for  our  interpreter, 
we  did  not  see  him  again.  He  had  disappeared, 
going  perhaps  to  some  other  part  of  the  front  to 
protest  his  devotion  to  M.  Venezelos,  and  his  en- 
thusiasm for  the  cause  of  the  Allied  arms,  con- 
fident in  his  security  from  detection,  and  not  a  little 
contemptuous  of  those  whom  he  professed  to  serve. 

One  feels  that  contempt  everywhere  in  the 
country.  The  people  are  accustomed  to  war. 
Throughout  the  years  they  have  been  subject  to 


CONCERNING    SPIES 


quick  alarms;  sudden  and  violent  death  is  a  thing 
which  they  understand  thoroughly.  They  have 
seen  the  light  of  burning  homes  and  crops ;  they 
have  mourned,  and  they  have  rejoiced.  And  to 
them  we  seem  to  be  strange  warriors,  foolish  and 
helpless  people,  without  decision  or  determination. 
If  when  we  found  that  shepherd  among  his  goats 
one  of  us  had  shot  him  and  another  had  put  a 
bullet  through  the  brain  of  our  interpreter,  the 
people  of  the  land  would  have  appreciated  the  ac- 
tions, but  our  fashion  of  sending  down  even  known 
spies  to  Salonika  and  affording  them  a  fair  trial 
with  full  opportunities  for  friends  to  lie  freely  on 
their  behalf — that  is  not  appreciated  except  as  a 
^  sign  of  our  amazing  madness.  The  Germans  would 
,  not  be  so  foolish ;  they  would  shoot  at  once  and 
not  even  trouble  to  ask  if  they  had  shot  the  right 
man — and  that  is  a  policy  which  commands  the 
'  respect  of  the  Macedonian.  To  the  minds  of  these 
people  it  appears  that  a  nation  which  pursues  such 
a  course  is  far  stronger  and  more  likely  to  win. 

It  is  so  easy  to  look  back  on  the  early  stages  of 
a  campaign  and  to  say  "if  we  had  done  this  and 
this,  our  way  would  have  been  less  difficult,"  but 
the  exercise  is  not  often  profitable.  It  is  true  that 
if  we  had  dealt  in  more  drastic  fashion  with  spies 
in  the  beginning  they  would  not  be  such  a  nuisance 
today,  but  it  does  not  appear  that  we  could  have 
behaved  differently.     We  have  our  inbred  enthu- 

^43 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

siasm  for  a  fair  trial,  and  we  have  gone  about  the 
earth  forcing  the  fair  trial  upon  peoples  who  lack 
appreciation  of  justice  for  so  many  centuries.  It 
does  not  seem  to  matter  to  us  that  our  actions 
are  regarded  as  foolishness  and  weakness;  it  is 
our  custom  and  we  intend  to  carry  it  out.  And 
the  appearance  of  the  map  of  the  world  suggests 
that  our  foolishness  has  been  profitable  in  the  end. 
Perhaps,  in  spite  of  the  open  contempt  of  the  vil- 
lagers of  Macedonia  our  policy  will  prove  to  have 
been  profitable  with  them  also.  One  can  only 
note  the  fact  that  it  is  very  hard  as  yet  to  see 
that  it  has  been  anything  but  a  hampering  nuisance. 


144 


CHAPTER  XIV 


OUR  FEASTING 


THERE  was  once  a  most  experienced  warrior 
who  made  a  song  in  praise  of  the  Eternal 
Goodness.  In  his  song  he  put  a  little  list  of  bene- 
fits which  he  had  received,  the  things  in  his  life 
for  which  he  had  been  most  joyously  grateful.  In 
that  list  there  is  one  line  which  only  a  soldier  can 
appreciate  fully:  "Thou  preparest  a  table  before 
me  in  the  presence  of  mine  enemies.  .  .  .  My 
cup  runneth  over." 

For  such  a  table  as  one  usually  finds  in  the 
presence  of  the  enemy  is  a  rudimentary  affair. 
There  is  food  and  there  is  drink,  and  one  can  say  little 
more  about  it.  It  is,  of  course,  adapted  to  that 
business  of  sustaining  life  and  renewing  energy 
which  is  the  primary  purpose  of  all  food,  but  it 
leaves  out  of  account  the  other  business  of  re- 
freshing the  whole  being  by  a  little  space  of  delight 
and  enjoyment.  That  does  not  enter  into  the  pro- 
gram. When  you  sit  down  by  the  roadside  or  in 
a  hasty  trench  to  excavate  the  contents  of  a  tin 
of  bully  beef  with  a  clasp  knife  and  your  fingers, 

H5 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 


chewing  meanwhile  at  those  obdurate  biscuits 
whose  only  virtue  is  that  they  are  handy  to  carry 
about — when  you  do  these  things,  you  know  that 
you  are  being  nourished,  and  you  do  not  expect 
anything  else.  So,  too,  when  you  take  a  mouth- 
ful of  luke-warm,  chlorinated  water  from  your 
bottle,  you  know  that  your  thirst  is  being  slaked 
and  that  in  consequence  you  will  be  able  to  endure 
for  a  little  while  longer.  Perhaps  if  your  tempera- 
ment w^re  unusually  ascetic  you  would  be  glad 
to  have  a  life  so  shorn  of  accessories  and  to  have 
robbed  the  body  of  one  of  its  pleasures,  but  the 
army  as  a  whole  is  not  made  up  of  ascetics.  It  is 
made  up  of  a  jolly,  full-blooded  people  who  have 
learnt  through  hardship  and  privation  to  appre- 
ciate the  good  things  of  life,  to  desire  them  and 
to  enjoy  them  to  the  full  whenever  they  have  an 
opportunity.  This  being  the  case,  most  of  us  would 
be  glad  to  subscribe  to  the  limit  of  our  ability 
towards  a  testimonial  to  the  man  who  is  respon- 
sible for  the  Expeditionary  Force  Canteens.  That 
man,  whoever  he  may  be,  is  the  chief  benefactor 
of  our  armies  in  the  field,  and  especially  of  our 
armies  in  Macedonia. 

No  praise  can  be  too  high  for  the  work  of  the 
department  of  the  Quartermaster-General.  Quite 
apart  from  the  huge  business  of  equipment,  that 
department  has  to  feed  our  millions  on  all  the 
fronts  day  after  day,   and   the   task   is   admirably 


X46 


OUR    FEASTING 


accomplished.  To  every  man  there  comes  each 
day  the  food  required  to  keep  him  fit  for  his  work. 
It  comes  in  generous  measure,  and  in  really  won- 
derful variety,  considering  the  difficulties  of  the 
business.  But  the  variety  cannot  be  great  enough 
to  satisfy  the  very  human  craving  for  an  occasional 
change,  for  sharp  flavors,  and  for  sweetness.  With 
jam  and  with  onions  the  authorities  do  their  best 
for  our  palates,  and  their  achievements  are  really 
wonderful,  but  they  do  not  reach  to  the  end  of 
healthy  desire.  Filling  the  gap  there  comes  the 
work  of  the  Expeditionary  Force  Canteens,  those 
glorified  tuck-shops  of  the  army. 

Here  and  there  in  Macedonia  there  stand  great 
marquees  with  signboards  bearing  the  words  of 
cheer,  ''Expeditionary  Force  Canteen."  There  are 
not  many  of  them.  There  is,  of  course,  a  big  head- 
quarter place  in  Salonika.  There  is  one  at  Horti- 
ack,  and  another,  I  believe,  at  Stavros.  At  the 
forty-fifth  kilo  on  the  Seres  road  there  is  a  kind 
of  branch  establishment,  and  there  is  one  at  Janes. 
When  we  reached  that  place  and  found  that  it 
possessed  a  canteen,  we  began  to  remember  the 
things  which  we  really  liked,  and  mess  presidents 
became   suddenly  busy   collecting  money. 

Messing  is  always  done  by  companies  in  Mace- 
donia. Battalions  are  so  often  split  up  and  their 
parts  separated  that  it  would  not  be  possible  to 
run  one  mess  for  all  the  officers  of  the  battalion. 


H7 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

The  officers  of  each  company  club  together,  and  the 
unluckiest  is  appointed  mess  president.  His  duty 
it  is  to  buy  anything  which  he  can  find  to  buy, 
to  reason  with  the  cook,  to  make  the  meals  as 
delectable  as  possible,  and  to  endure  all  day  long 
the  reproaches  of  the  little  family  whose  house- 
keeper he  is.  Also  he  has  to  collect  from  his  family 
such  sums  as  will  pay  for  the  various  articles  which 
he  has  purchased;  he  has  to  learn  to  give  soft 
answers  and  to  prepare  balance-sheets,  and  to 
possess  his  soul  in  patience  when  somebody  says 
that  he  has  no  money  and  that  he  will  have  to  wait 
till  the  field  cashier  comes  round. 

For  of  course  check  books  are  useless  in  that 
uncivilized  land.  No  one  appreciates  the  docu- 
ments, and  no  one  ever  thinks  of  writing  them. 
Money  is  obtained  from  the  field  cashier,  a  benevo- 
lent gentleman  who  pays  periodical  visits  to  the 
different  units,  with  bags  and  boxes  full  of  the 
paper  money  of  Greece.  In  exchange  for  a  little 
writing  on  a  scrap  of  paper  he  presents  you  with 
notes  which  you  carry  patiently  round  the  country 
till  the  mess  president  finds  an  E.F.C.,  or  your 
servant  decides  that  he  would  like  his  wages. 
Macedonia  would  break  the  heart  of  a  spendthrift 
millionaire.  Try  as  he  might  he  would  not  be  able 
to  find  any  way  of  getting  rid  of  his  money.  You 
cannot  spend  in  a  country  in  which  there  is  noth- 
ing to  buy,  and  in  consequence  funds  are  always 

148 


OUR    FEASTING 


plentiful  on  those  rare,  delightful  occasions  when 
it  is  discovered  that  there  is  a  canteen  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  camp. 

I  brought  away  with  me  the  price  list  which  I 
obtained  when  I  went  to  that  canteen  at  Janes. 
It  is  a  big,  imposing  sheet,  and  it  contains  the 
names  and  prices  of  over  three  hundred  articles, 
any  one  of  which  the  man  on  active  service  would 
dearly  love  to  possess,  though  he  would  find  it  diffi- 
cult to  carry  some  of  them  about  with  him.  There 
are  belts  and  biscuits  and  butter,  cheese,  chutney 
and  corkscrews,  figs,  footballs  and  fly-papers. 
Handkerchiefs,  honey  and  haddocks,  laces,  lard  and 
lentils,  sauce,  sausages  and  soap — all  these  and 
many,  many  more  delectable  things  are  offered. 
To  glance  through  that  list  in  a  crowded  marquee 
in  the  heart  of  Macedonia  is  to  gain  a  feeling  of 
having  come  home  all  at  once,  with  the  freedom 
of  the  Army  and  Navy  Stores  and  Selfridge's  and 
Harrods.  That  feeling  only  wears  off  a  little  when 
you  proceed  to  work  through  the  ten-deep  crowd 
before  the  counter,  and  find  out  what  you  can 
really  buy. 

For  of  course  at  an  up-country  place  you  could 
not  expect  to  find  all  the  three  hundred-odd 
articles  in  stock  at  the  same  time.  Transport  is 
too  great  a  problem,  and  the  demand  is  too  fierce 
The  Janes  canteen  is  the  center  of  the  hopes  of 
all  the  units  which  work  on  the  Doiran  front.    Day 


I4g 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    TH£    BALKANS 

by  day  officers  and  men  and  limbers  come  cantering 
in  from  the  hills  which  hide  the  firing  line,  with 
long  lists  of  goods  required  and  with  bundles  of 
notes  in  their  pockets.  No  sooner  is  the  canteen 
stocked  than  it  is  emptied  again.  Packing  cases 
dance  through  it,  hardly  pausing  on  their  way,  and 
go  rollicking  off  to  cheer  the  inhabitants  of  the 
dug-outs  over  there  where  the  Bulgar  shells  are 
bursting.  And  in  addition  to  the  people  in  the 
firing  line  there  are  all  the  units  which  are  scat- 
tered about  the  country,  making  roads  or  doing 
other  necessary  work  within  a  ten-mile  radius. 
Everyone  wants  everything  he  can  get,  and  the 
job  of  the  canteen  manager  is  not  an  enviable  one. 
We  did  our  shopping  magnificently  in  that  mar- 
quee. The  great  advantage  of  the  active  service 
life  is  that  it  abolishes  fads.  The  man  who  pro- 
tested in  peace  time  that  if  he  ate  pineapple  he 
came  out  in  pink  spots  all  over  quite  forgets  his 
affliction  when  he  has  not  tasted  fruit  of  any  kind 
for  three  weeks.  You  can  buy  what  you  like  within 
reason  and  be  sure  that  it  will  be  appreciated. 
Only  once  did  the  canteen  disappoint  us,  and  that 
was  when  it  sold  us  some  tins  of  horrible  little 
sausages,  of  the  thickness  and  general  consistency 
of  a  lead  pencil.  For  the  rest  the  things  were 
good  and  more  than  good,  and  the  mules  objected 
sincerely  to  the  load  which  we  packed  into  the 
limber  to  take  away  with  us,  for  all  the  offioers' 

J50 


OUR    FEASTING 


messes  of  the  battalion  and  the  sergeants'  mess 
and  the  regimental  canteen  had  representatives 
with  that  expedition,  and  after  we  had  finished  in 
the  dry  goods  department  we  went  round  to 
another  marquee  where  cases  with  fascinating  in- 
scriptions were  stacked,  and  proceeded  to  buy- 
alcoholic  beverages. 

For  the  rest  of  that  week  the  various  messes 
were  busy  giving  vainglorious  dinners,  and  ran- 
sacking the  battalion  and  the  neighborhood  for 
guests.  Any  excuse  is  good  enough  for  a  festivity 
in  such  a  country,  and  it  is  something  to  have  an 
unfamiliar  face  at  the  table  when  you  have  been 
feeding  with  the  same  four  or  five  men  at  every 
meal  of  every  day  for  weeks  on  end.  Those  were 
the  days  when  the  mess  cooks  of  the  companies 
entered  into  fierce  competitions  and  pestered  the 
mess  presidents  with  suggestions  every  morning 
They  were  days  when  we  professed  to  grow  weary 
of  asparagus  and  began  to  criticize  lobster  and 
to  be  fussy  over  brands  of  condensed  milk.  Also 
we  compared  brands  of  stout  and  whisky  and  quar- 
relled over  the  merits  of  various  liquors — we  who, 
a  week  before,  had  been  thankful  enough  for  a 
pint  of  Macedonian  beer  wherewith  to  wash  down 
our  rations. 

One  never  knows  how  things  will  appear  to 
other  people.  I  am  wondering  now  if  all  this 
will  seem  very  greedy  and  gluttonous,  as  though 


151 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

we  were  only  concerned  to  eat  and  to  drink  and 
had  no  appreciation  of  the  grim  nature  of  the 
business  to  which  we  were  sworn.  There  may 
be  some  who  will  think  of  us  like  that,  some  stern 
souls  on  whose  breakfast  table  there  are  porridge 
and  kippers  and  bacon  every  morning  and  who 
always  eat  mutton  because  they  dislike  beef.  But 
it  does  not  occur  to  me  that  we  need  any  defence 
for  rejoicing  in  all  those  nice  things,  for  getting 
a  great  deal  of  real,  keen  pleasure  out  of  them, 
and  for  thanking  our  lucky  stars  that  we  had  come 
to  a  place  where  such  things  were  to  be  obtained. 
A  table  prepared  in  the  presence  of  our  enemies 
— a  cup  running  over. 


^5^ 


CHAPTER  XV 

MOSQUITOES    AND    MALARIA 

THERE  are  few  things  more  irritating  than  to 
sit  down  before  a  good  meal,  and  to  realize 
with  sudden,  painful  clearness  that  you  cannot 
eat  anything  at  all,  that  you  must  crawl  away  to 
your  bivouac  and  lie  there  very  unhappily  for  the 
next  four  or  five  hours,  unable  to  smoke  or  to 
read  or  to  take  any  real  interest  in  anything.  To 
that  annoying  fate  malaria  condemns  its  victims, 
over  and  over  again. 

I  have  already  explained  that  when  our  men 
were  sent  to  Salonika  they  were  committed  to  a 
war  against  Nature,  a  war  against  rock  and  swamp 
and  wilderness,  a  war  against  hill  and  valley,  a  war 
against  storm  and  sun.  At  the  same  time  they 
were  committed  to  a  war  against  the  mosquito  and 
all  its  works,  chief  of  which  is  the  spreading  of 
that  detestable  fever.  There  are  wide  spaces  in 
that  land  where  every  battalion  which  occupies 
the  ground  is  certain  to  be  decimated.  You  could 
not  be  more  positively  sure  of  reducing  its  fight- 
ing strength  if  you  were  to  put  it  in  the  most 
perilous  part  of  the  line  in  one  of  the  big  offen- 

153 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

sives  in  France.  Every  battalion  which  goes  into 
the  Struma  valley  through  the  summer  months 
knov^s  quite  well  that  it  will  be  losing  men  day 
after  day,  week  after  week  while  it  remains  there, 
and  for  long  enough  after  it  may  be  returned  to 
the  hills.  The  same  is  true  of  the  valleys  of  the 
Galika  and  the  Vardar,  and  of  the  low  land  round 
by  Lake  Langaza. 

Of  course  precautions  are  taken.  The  quinine 
parade  is  a  standing  order  in  the  Salonika  armies. 
Every  day  the  companies  are  lined  up  and  marched 
off  to  the  doctor's  headquarters.  There  the  men 
pass  in  single  file,  and  receive  each  of  them  five 
grains  of  quinine,  with  a  drink  of  water  to  wash 
it  down.  How  much  quinine  they  consume  in  the 
course  of  a  year  I  should  not  like  to  say,  for  all 
are  served  alike.  Some  of  them  are  very  sorrowful 
about  it  at  first,  but  in  the  end  it  becomes  as  much 
a  matter  of  course  as  the  cleaning  of  the  rifle. 

Then,  too,  mosquito  netting  is  issued  to  the  units 
stationed  in  dangerous  areas,  and  the  camps  are 
constantly  inspected  by  medical  dignitaries  who 
refuse  to  be  contented  till  they  are  sure  that  all 
the  men  know  how  to  close  up  their  bivouacs  with 
it.  Supervision  of  the  mosquito  defences  is  not 
the  least  of  one's  little  worries,  and  it  adds  seri- 
ously to  the  burden  of  the  medical  officer's  life. 
But  in  spite  of  these  precautions,  malaria  continues 
to  claim  its  victims.    The  quinine  parade  does  not 

^54 


MOSQUITOES    AND     MALARIA 

fortify  them  against  it,  nor  do  the  nets  protect 
them.  Day  by  day  fresh  cases  are  reported.  Day 
by  day  the  ambulances  are  taking  men  off  to  hospi- 
tal, while  company  commanders  mourn  over  their 
parade  states. 

The  criminal  responsible  for  all  this  is  a  mos- 
quito which  always  hangs  its  head  with  a  de- 
jected and  crime-laden  air  when  it  sits  down. 
Mosquitoes  which  are  not  engaged  in  distributing 
malaria  rest  quite  differently,  with  their  bodies 
either  parallel  to  the  surface  to  which  they  are 
clinging,  or  so  inclined  that  the  head  is  higher 
than  the  tail.  But  when  you  find  one  whose  tail; 
is  in  the  air  while  its  head  is  tucked  down,  you 
may  know  that  it  is  a  poison-bearer  and  an  insect 
to  be  avoided.  If  one  of  those  mosquitoes  has 
bitten  you  the  next  fortnight  or  so  will  prove 
whether  or  not  malaria  has  power  to  touch  you. 

The  amount  of  trouble  those  insects  give  is  the 
proof  of  the  respect  with  which  the  Army  regards 
them.  The  dangerous  areas  are,  of  course,  the  low- 
lands near  water.  For  this  reason  the  camps  are 
always  pitched  on  the  highest  possible  ground. 
This  may  and  usually  does  mean  that  you  are  a 
mile  and  more  from  the  water  supply,  but  that  does 
not  matter  in  the  least.  At  one  time  we  were  very 
busy  along  the  Galika  valley  by  Karadza  Kadi,  and 
every  night  we  climbed  to  roost  high  on  the  hills 
to  the  east,  and  water  had  to  be  carried  nearly 

155 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

— «— — — "1^  111  »I1W<.'WM«.  I      III. Mill  — ^— ■— M 

two  miles  to  the  camp.  It  was  a  great  nuisance, 
but  it  was  quite  unavoidable.  It  is  dangerous  even 
to  walk  into  the  valley  after  sunset,  for  one  would 
certainly  be  bitten,  and  a  mosquito  bite  can  be 
quite  as  disastrous  as  a  bullet  wound.  So  it  was 
that  at  sunset  we  left  the  low  ground  to  the  un- 
disturbed possession  of  the  natives  and  retired  up 
the  rocky  steeps  to  our  camp  among  the  scrub, 
but  even  so  we  were  not  altogether  safe.  A  few 
of  those  industrious  poison-distributors  usually  fol- 
lowed us,  and  the  medical  officer  was  in  danger  of 
wearing  himself  out  over  the  supervision  of  mos- 
quito nets,  while  the  nervous  people  doubled  their 
dose  of  quinine  and  took  ten  grains  daily. 

The  soldier's  business  is,  of  course,  a  double  one. 
He  has  to  do  all  possible  damage  to  the  enemy,  and 
he  has  to  keep  from  being  damaged  unnecessarily 
himself.  It  is  quite  an  important  part  of  his  work 
to  take  care  of  himself  and  to  preserve  himself 
in  good  condition  for  the  hour  when  he  may  be 
called  upon  to  go  forward  into  danger  and  fight. 
If  he  fails  to  take  care  of  himself  he  is  not  a  good 
soldier;  if  he  seeks  to  disable  himself  he  will  cer- 
tainly be  court-martialled,  and  ought  to  be  shot. 
All  these  statements  are  the  most  elementary  max- 
ims of  military  life,  and  they  are  brought  to  the 
notice  of  the  soldier  very  early  in  his  training,  and 
are  impressed  upon  him  time  after  time  through 
the  duration  of  his  service. 

156 


MOSQUITOES    AND     MALARIA 
g  " 

And  they  are  realized  quite  clearly.  The  aver- 
age soldier  knows  well  enough  that  he  has  no 
right  to  expose  himself  uselessly,  that  he  would 
be  doing  wrong,  for  example,  if  he  were  to  put 
up  his  hand  above  the  parapet  of  the  trench  in 
the  hope  that  a  stray  bullet  might  give  him  a 
trifling  wound  that  would  get  him  a  holiday  in 
hospital.  But  a  man  may  understand  this  and  yet 
fail  to  grasp  the  fact  that  it  is  quite  as  criminal 
an  act  to  expose  himself  to  the  risk  of  a  mosquito 
bite.  It  is  such  a  silly  thing  after  all.  In  the 
morning  there  is  the  red,  itching  lump  on  hand  or 
arm  or  face,  but  it  does  not  seem  important,  and 
it  is  not  easy  to  grasp  the  fact  that  that  itching  lump 
may  be  a  far  more  serious  wound  than  many  a 
bullet  hole.  For  that  reason  it  is  not  easy  to  im- 
press on  the  men  the  urgent  need  for  protecting 
themselves    against    this    particular    enemy. 

The  amount  of  mosquito  net  that  is  issued  is  not 
always  adequate.  If  it  is  to  afford  any  protection, 
it  must  be  most  carefully  arranged,  and  sometimes 
it  seems  altogether  too  much  trouble  to  make  the 
arrangements.  Moreover,  summer  nights  in  Mace- 
donia can  be  terribly  oppressive  at  times,  and 
sleepers  are  liable  to  be  restless,  to  toss  and  turn 
and  destroy  their  defences.  Through  carelessness, 
through  accident,  and  at  times  through  sheer  neces- 
sity the  way  is  opened,  and  the  mosquito  is  given 
its  opportunity. 

^57 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

There  are,  of  course,  very  many  who  go  un- 
harmed through  it  all.  For  some  reason  which  the 
doctors  may  understand,  they  are  immune,  and  the 
poison  does  not  touch  them.  They  are  on  parade 
every  day  cheerful  and  undisturbed.  But  there  are 
the  others  who  are  taught  swiftly  and  most  un- 
comfortably the  full  meaning  of  the  mosquito  bite 
which  seemed  so  small  a  thing  when  it  was  in- 
flicted. 

One  can  never  tell  where  the  next  victim  will 
be  found.  After  a  fortnight  in  a  malarial  district 
there  is  a  touch  of  excitement  to  enliven  every 
morning.  When  the  company  or  the  battalion  falls 
in  on  parade  there  is  always  the  question — who  is 
missing?  It  may  be  an  invaluable  platoon  sergeant, 
it  may  the  battalion  nuisance.  The  fever  does 
not  respect  strength,  and  very  often  it  leaves 
weakness  unharmed.  But  almost  certainly  there 
will  be  a  vacant  place  somewhere  or  other,  and 
someone  will  be  shivering  dismally  under  piled 
blankets,  or  gasping  for  breath  and  dreaming  of 
cool  drinks,  and  absorbing  large  doses  of  quinine. 

Sometimes  a  man  will  have  so  severe  an  attack 
that  there  will  be  nothing  for  it  but  to  pack  him 
off  to  hospital  at  once.  On  the  other  hand  there 
are  many  cases  when  after  two  or  three  days  the 
victim  will  be  back  at  work,  thinking  that  the 
trouble  has  passed  away,  and  that  he  will  not 
have  to  fall  out  of  his  place  in  the  ranks.    There 

15S 


MOSQUITOES    AND     MALARIA 

are  some  men,  especially  among  those  who  have 
suffered  from  the  fever  before  in  other  countries 
vi^ho  are  able  to  carry  on.  I  knew  one  major  who 
was  helpless  for  two  or  three  days  out  of  every 
month,  but  did  contrive  to  remain  with  his 
battalion  and  to  get  through  his  work.  And  there 
are  others  who  are  forced  into  hospital  every 
now  and  then,  but  find  their  way  back  every  time. 
Others  again  fight  against  the  trouble  for  weeks 
but  are  at  the  last  driven  out  of  the  country  by 
it,    to    finish    their   soldiering   in    other   lands. 

Fighting  malaria  is  not  an  amusement  that  can 
be  recommended.  The  tricks  of  it  are  so  numer- 
ous. Sometimes  an  attack  will  come  on  with  due 
warning  which  gives  time  for  steps  to  be  taken 
to  reduce  the  fury  of  it,  and  at  other  times 
the  onslaught  will  be  so  sudden  that  it  has  devel- 
oped into  an  undeniable  fact  in  two  minutes.  It 
is  quite  possible  to  sit  down  to  a  meal  feeling 
perfectly  w^ell,  and  even  to  get  through  one  course, 
and  then  to  be  compelled  to  leave  the  rest  and 
go  away  to  put  up  as  well  as  may  be  with  the 
discomfort  of  the  following  hours. 

And  of  course  that  leads  in  time  to  weakness 
which  becomes  more  and  more  pronounced.  Very 
many  of  our  men  in  Macedonia  have  rebelled  so 
sturdily  against  the  idea  of  giving  in  that  they 
have  struggled  on,  week  after  week.  They  have 
refused  to  attend  the  sick  parade  or  to  confess  that 

159 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

there  was  anything  the  matter  with  them  until 
at  last  their  weakness  has  betrayed  them,  and 
their  trouble  has  been  discovered  simply  be- 
cause it  was  not  possible  for  them  to  work  or 
to  march  any  more.  They  had  realized  that  ideal 
to  which  only  the  best  soldiers  can  ever  attain. 
They  had  gone  on  while  their  limbs  would  carry 
them,  disdaining  to  yield  while  strength  remained 
to  set  one  foot  before  the  other.  And  there  is 
something  that  hangs  between  the  comic  and  the 
utterly  pathetic  in  their  disgust  when  they  find 
that  it  is  indeed  the  end  of  endeavor  for  them  for 
the  time. 

Doubtless  those  who  are  in  authority  over  us 
know  what  malaria  has  cost  our  armies  in  Mace- 
donia. Whether  or  not  they  realized  what  that 
cost  would  be  when  the  adventure  was  planned 
is  another  of  those  questions  which  may  possibly 
be  answered  in  the  future.  For  the  present  it  is 
enough  to  say  that  it  must  be  taken  into  account 
in  any  consideration  of  the  work  and  achievements 
of  the  forces  which  were  sent  to  that  uncomfortable 
land.  It  must  be  remembered  as  scrupulously  as 
must  the  nature  of  the  country  and  all  that  diffi- 
culty of  transport  of  which  I  have  written.  It  is 
another  of  the  big  troubles  with  which  General 
Sarrail  and  his  subordinate  commanders  have  had 
to  contend,  and  it  is  not  possible  to  do  justice  to 
any  commander  unless   you   make   full   allowance 

i6o 


MOSQUITOES    AND     MALARIA 

for  his  difficulties,  and  the  critics  who  sit  so  easily 
at  home  and  write  of  what  should  have  been  accom- 
plished in  Macedonia  must,  in  common  honesty, 
give  due  consideration  to  all  the  condit'ons  which 
have  surrounded  the  work  of  the  forces  sent  to 
Salonika. 

And  a  sick  soldier  is  something  more  than  a 
man  absent  from  his  place.  He  is  so  definitely 
and  defiantly  a  nuisance.  He  is  a  person  who  must 
be  tended  and  cared  for.  There  must  be  people  to 
look  after  him,  ambulances  to  carry  him  about, 
lorries  to  bring  up  the  special  things  which  he 
requires.  Multiply  him  by  a  few  thousands,  and 
you  must  have  an  elaborate,  well-staffed  organi- 
zation at  work,  doing  all  kinds  of  secondary  jobs 
which  would  not  be  there  to  be  done  if  there  were 
no  sickness.  With  one  hand  the  fever  has  with- 
drawn men  from  their  work  by  thousands ;  with 
the  other  it  has  forced  on  the  commanders  the 
necessity  of  maintaining  in  the  country  a  large 
number  of  non-combatants.  Any  increase  in  the 
number  of  its  non-combatant  members  weakens 
an  army,  and  more  especially  in  such  a  country  as 
this  where  it  is  so  difficult  a  matter  to  bring  up 
the  necessary  supplies. 

That  is  a  point  which  is  frequently  overlooked, 
and  yet  it  is  of  the  highest  importance.  Before 
you  go  to  war  in  any  country  it  is  essential  to 
know  what  amount  of  manpower  will  be  absorbed 

i6i 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

in  taking  care  of  the  fighters,  and  especially  if  it 
is  difficult  country  to  which  all  supplies  must  be 
carried  a  long  distance  by  sea.  For  as  the  diffi- 
culty of  the  country  increases,  so  will  the  number 
of  men  employed  on  transport  work  increase,  and 
food  must  be  brought  for  each  of  these  as  well 
as  for  the  men  who  do  the  actual  fighting.  And  if 
in  addition  it  is  a  country  where  much  sickness  is 
to  be  expected,  the  number  of  essential  non- 
combatants  will  be  greater  than  ever.  The  best 
army,  from  the  point  of  view  of  a  commander, 
is  one  in  which  a  hundred  per  cent  of  its  members 
are  fighters.  The  lower  the  percentage  of  fighters, 
the  more  difficult  it  becomes  to  win  battles,  or, 
indeed,  to  go  into  battle  at  all.  And  all  those 
heroic,  necessary  people  who  belong  to  the  medical 
service  of  the  Salonika  forces  are  a  source  of  weak- 
ness to  those  forces,  even  while  it  is  true  that 
without  them  no  military  operations  would  be  pos- 
sible in  the  land. 


162 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THESE    ARE    THE    HEROES 

THE  whole  body  of  the  facts  and  figures  con- 
cerning the  hospital  organization  in  Macedonia 
is  in  the  keeping  of  the  authorities,  and  there  it 
must  remain  till  the  time  when  the  war  shall  have 
become  no  more  than  a  memory  and  all  the  truth 
of  the  world's  effort  may  be  told.  In  those  coming 
days  we  shall  learn,  perhaps,  the  number  of  the 
people  who  were  engaged  in  that  service,  the 
number  of  the  marquees  and  ambulances  which 
were  kept  so  constantly  busy,  and  the  cost  of  that 
great  work  of  caring  for  the  sick  and  wounded. 
Certain  it  is  that  no  ordinary  member  of  the 
Salonika  expeditionary  force  could  even  guess  at 
the  extent  of  the  labor  or  the  magnitude  of  the 
means  which  had  to  be  employed  to  deal  with  the 
task. 

We  who  belonged  to  the  fighting  units  could 
only  know  that  wherever  we  went  the  Geneva 
cross  was  never  very  far  away.  Ever  and  again 
as  we  marched  through  the  land  we  would  find 
it  flying  over  some  compact  little  camp  in  a  fold 

163 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

of  the  hills.  On  all  the  roads  there  were  the  ambu- 
lances hurrying  to  and  fro.  On  that  railway 
which  runs  from  Salonika  to  Janes  and  beyond 
there  is  the  hospital  train  carrying  down  its  load 
to  the  sea  every  day,  and  in  Salonika  Bay  the 
green  and  white  hospital  ships  are  coming  and 
going  all  the  time.  In  Macedonia  you  may  be 
far  from  newspapers,  from  tobacco  which  a  reason- 
able being  can  smoke,  from  the  more  pleasing 
varieties  of  food  and  from  all  the  minor  comforts 
of  life,  but  you  are  never  very  far  from  some  kind 
of  a  hospital. 

The  broad  lines  of  the  organization  are  roughly 
these.  The  medical  firing  line  is,  of  course,  held 
by  the  medical  officers  of  the  battalions,  who  have 
their  orderlies  and  stretcher-bearers  to  assist  them. 
The  medical  officer  has  his  Aid  Post  in  the  camp, 
where  he  can  attend  to  the  sick,  where  his  drugs 
and  implements  are  stored,  where  he  can  remove 
offending  teeth,  administer  quinine  or  that  terror 
of  the  Army  which  is  known  as  Number  Nine,  and 
take  the  temperature  of  the  latest  victim  of  malaria. 
Frequently  he  has  also  an  ambulance  drawn  by 
horses  or  mules  which  accompanies  the  unit  on  its 
travels,  but  of  course  this  has  to  be  left  behind 
when  the  nature  of  the  country  makes  wheeled 
transport  impossible  and  all  the  luggage  and  sup- 
plies have  to  be  carried  on  pack  mules.  On  these 
occasions  the  fate  of  the  individual  who  is  taken 

164 


THESE    ARE    THE     HEROES 

ill  on  the  march  is  unhappy.  If  he  collapses  by 
the  wayside  there  is  nothing  to  carry  him,  except 
the  stretchers,  and  it  is  necessary  to  make  him  un- 
derstand quite  clearly  that  at  all  cost  he  must  drag 
himself  along  to  the  end  of  the  day's  journey. 

In  the  second  line  come  the  field  ambulances. 
They  are  mobile,  and  it  is  their  business  to  go 
with  troops  on  the  move,  to  pick  up  as  many  of 
the  casualties  as  the  battalions  cannot  keep  with 
them,  and  to  hand  them  on  in  due  season.  The 
ordinary  field  ambulance  consists  of  a  few  ambu- 
lance wagons  and  a  small  camp.  If  the  unit  to 
which  it  is  attached  is  moving  through  difficult 
country  with  pack  transport,  the  ambulance  gen- 
erally looks  for  an  easy  way  round,  so  that  at  the 
end  of  the  day  or  at  some  time  during  the  next 
day  it  may  be  ready  to  take  over  any  men  who 
have  fallen  ill.  The  soldier  who  is  hurt  or  at- 
tacked by  fever  or  dysentery  is  treated  first  at  the 
Aid  Post  of  his  own  unit.  If  his  condition  does 
not  improve  and  he  is  unable  to  journey  on  with 
the  rest,  he  is  handed  over  to  the  field  ambulance 
where  he  may  be  treated  again  for  a  little  while 
if  his  illness  is  only  slight.  If  he  does  not  get 
better,  or  if  the  ambulance  becomes  unduly 
crowded,  he  is  passed  on  to  the  third  line. 

This  is  composed  of  the  casualty  clearing  sta- 
tions. They  are  permanent  camps  established  at 
the  most  advanced  position  possible.     Thus  there 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

is  one  at  Stavros  and  another  at  Lahana  and  a  third 
at  Janes.  They  are  really  miniature  hospitals,  and 
to  be  sent  into  one  of  them  is  to  experience  the  un- 
imaginable luxury  of  sleeping  once  more  between 
sheets  and  on  a  real  bed.  The  sufferer  may  remain 
in  one  of  these  stations  for  a  long  time,  if  he  is 
considered  too  ill  to  make  the  journey  to  a  hospital, 
or  if  it  is  thought  that  he  will  very  soon  be  well 
again.  Behind  the  casualty  clearing  stations,  and 
especially  on  the  Seres  road,  there  are  occasional 
small  field  hospitals  which  receive  and  keep  for  a 
little  while  those  who  are  not  well  enough  to  make 
the  whole  journey  back  to  the  base,  or  who  are 
only  slightly  ill  and  may  be  expected  to  recover 
within  a  week  or  so.  Tucked  away  out  of  sight 
near  these  little  hospitals  you  will  always  find  a 
graveyard,  a  little  space  of  ground  very  carefully 
fenced  and  cleared,  with  the  neat,  sad  mounds 
in  precise  order,  and  the  little  white  crosses  with 
their  brief  inscriptions,  bearing  witness  that  some 
have  not  lived  long  enough  even  to  die  within 
sight  of  the  sea.  That  always  seems  the  hardest, 
crudest  part  of  war,  that  finding  of  death  in  the 
safe  places  behind  the  lines.  There  is  nothing  un- 
seemly in  the  death  that  is  found  in  the  course 
of  ordinary  duty;  that  is  all  in  the  contract  and 
it  is  not  a  very  grievous  thing.  But  it  is  hard  that 
when  a  man  has  lived  long  enough  to  find  safety 
with  his  face  turned  homeward  death  should  over- 

i66 


THESE    ARE    THE     HEROES 

take  him.  There  is  indeed  a  crescendo  of  sadness, 
and  if  those  graves  behind  the  Hnes  are  pitiful, 
still  more  so  are  those  which  have  been  dug  in 
Malta,  that  island  of  hospitals,  and  most  pitiful 
of  all  is  the  death  which  comes  on  the  hospital  ship 
as  the  coast  of  England  lifts  and  rises  from  the 
sea. 

No  one  who  has  played  any  part,  however  small, 
in  war  would  seek  to  emphasize  the  sadness  of  it. 
That  is  not  our  job.  If  it  must  be  done,  it  can 
very  well  be  left  to  newspaper  correspondents 
and  others  whose  business  it  is  to  watch  from  a 
distance  and  comment  on  the  course  of  things.  If 
I  have  mentioned  these  sorrowful,  remote  graves 
it  is  simply  because  it  is  necessary  to  insist  that 
they  would  be  more  numerous  by  far  if  it  were 
not  for  the  infinite  care  of  the  medical  service.  The 
day  of  miracles  is  not  past.  If  you  could  go  to 
those  hospitals  which  stand  about  Salonika,  if  you 
could  see  the  battles  that  are  fought  day  and 
night  through  all  the  hours  across  the  broken 
bodies  of  our  men,  you  would  understand.  If  you 
could  work  your  way  down  as  I  have  done  through 
field  ambulance  and  clearing  station  to  the  base, 
and  lie  day  after  day  in  one  of  those  long,  bright 
wards,  you  would  kno'.v  that  wonders  are  still  per- 
formed upon  the  earth. 

From  the  moment  a  man  is  carried  away  from 
his  unit  he  is  surrounded  by  such  unceasing  tender- 
id/ 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

ness,  by  such  a  wealth  of  devotion  and  skill.  It  is 
bad,  of  course,  for  those  who  find  their  trouble  on 
the  Struma  front,  and  must  come  back  down  all 
the  tormenting  length  of  the  Seres  road,  but  every 
possible  measure  is  taken  to  keep  them  from  pain 
and  suflfering,  and  if  they  are  very  weak  the  journey 
is  broken  so  that  it  may  be  made  in  easy  stages, 
with  rests  in  between  at  the  little  hospitals  which 
stand  by  the  side  of  the  road.  In  those  hospitals 
there  are  lavish  care  and  unflagging  attention  to 
cherish  and  fan  the  little  spark  of  strength  that  it 
may  glow  through  all  the  body,  giving  power  to 
endure  the  next  stage  of  the  journey. 

No  praise  can  be  too  high  for  the  men  and  women 
who  are  bound  to  that  service.  How  they  find 
power  and  the  heart  to  carry  on  with  their  work 
I  do  not  know,  but  their  zeal  is  unfailing,  and  their 
cheerful  kindness  goes  shining  on  through  all  the 
days  and  nights.  There  was  one  day  when  I  came 
to  Sarigdl,  that  unhappy  village  which  lies  next 
below  Janes.  The  hospital  train  had  just  come  into 
the  station  on  its  journey  down  to  Salonika.  There 
were  the  long  carriages,  and  the  vans  that  had  been 
fitted  with  cots;  one  could  see  the  forms  of  the 
men  as  they  lay  in  the  comfortable  shade,  and  the 
orderlies  hurrying  to  and  fro.  At  the  door  of  one 
of  the  vans  two  nurses  paused  for  a  moment,  look- 
ing out.  I  had  not  seen  an  Englishwoman  for 
months,  and  there  was  something  in  the  mere  sight 

i68 


THESE    ARE    THE    HEROES 

■  III  ■     HL 

of  them  that  took  one  by  the  throat.  They  stood 
there,  just  a  moment,  looking  out  over  that  alien 
land.  It  must  have  been  very  familiar  to  them, 
the  village  with  its  queer,  mud-plastered  hovels, 
the  tiny  church  w^ith  the  great  bearded  black- 
robed  priest  lumbering  down  towards  it,  and  the 
parched  plain  rolling  away  to  the  mountains.  They 
stood  there,  and  one  would  have  said  that  they 
were  a  little  weary,  weary  of  the  heat  and  the 
plague  of  the  flies  and  the  unending  labor  of  their 
life,  and  for  the  moment  they  were  forgetting  to 
smile.  There  was  a  call  from  the  shadows  inside 
the  van  and  they  turned,  both  together,  and  the 
smiles  were  back  on  their  faces,  not  the  forced 
smiles  of  duty,  but  shining  smiles  that  told  of  the 
kindness  burning  within. 

Of  the  trains  by  which  a  man  journeys  in  the 
course  of  his  life  there  are  a  few,  here  and  there, 
which  he  remembers  with  gratitude  and  joy.  We 
have  all  of  us  our  memories  of  the  happy  trains, 
which  carried  us  so  pleasantly  to  gladness,  and 
not  the  least  of  mine  is  that  hospital  train  which 
runs  from  Janes  to  Salonika.  For  there  came 
the  day  when  in  my  turn  I  was  put  on  that  train 
with  blankets  and  pillows  to  comfort  me,  with 
pleasant  food  and  drink  to  hearten  me,  and  with 
liberty  to  lie  quite  still  and  watch  Macedonia,  that 
admirable  country,  sliding  past  as  I  journeyed  so 
smoothly  down  to  the  sea.    The  nurses  were  busy 

/dp 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

in  another  part  of  the  train,  but  there  were  the 
soft-stepping  orderlies,  quick  to  anticipate  every 
want  and  desire,  and  once  when  we  stopped  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  at  the  station  called  Salamanli 
there  came  a  small,  delightful  music.  Before  that 
hour  and  since  I  have  cursed  gramophones  with 
the  heartiest  sincerity,  but  at  that  time  there  was 
nothing  but  delight,  and  one  did  not  realize  that 
a  machine  had  anything  to  do  with  it  but  thought 
only  that  four  entirely  admirable  people  were 
singing  Gilbert  and  Sullivan  quartettes  with  skill 
and  enthusiasm.  In  such  comfort  and  serene  un- 
happiness  one  could  have  journeyed  for  days  on 
end,  and  that  train  stands  to  me  for  a  symbol  of 
what  has  been  and  is  continually  being  done  for 
our  men  when  sickness  or  wounds  cry  halt  to  their 
campaigning.  All  that  can  be  bought  for  their 
healing  is  purchased  and  brought  from  the  ends 
of  the  earth,  and  with  it  there  comes  a  devotion 
which  could  never  be  bought,  for  which  no  money 
that  was  ever  coined  could  pay.  Some  of  those 
orderlies  of  the  Royal  Army  Medical  Corps  are 
heroes  of  the  most  dogged  and  determined  order. 
It  is  not  for  them  to  do  one  flaming  deed  in  the 
full  tide  of  battle  and  thus  to  win  splendor  for 
their  names.  It  is  their  part  to  go  on  day  after 
day  doing  unpleasant  things  with  cheerful  readi- 
ness— day  after  day.  And  with  them  there  are  the  doc- 
tors who  have  left  their  easy  homes,  and  the  nurses 


THESE    ARE     THE     HEROES 

who  have   come   from   all  the   lands   to  play  their 
part,  to  bear  their  portion  of  the  burden. 

As  on  that  excellent  train,  so  in  the  hospitals 
round  Salonika  they  are  doing  their  work  with  the 
same  unfailing  devotion.  The  stafifs  of  our  hospi- 
tals everywhere  deserve  all  that  can  be  given  them 
of  honor  and  reward,  but  those  who  have  served 
in  Salonika  deserve  even  more  than  the  others. 
It  is  so  unpleasant  a  town.  In  Alexandria  or  Cairo 
or  Malta  it  is  at  least  possible  to  escape  in  leisure 
hours  and  to  go  to  cheerful,  jolly  places  and  to  for- 
get pain  for  a  little  while,  but  I  do  not  know  what 
there  can  be  of  pleasant  recreation  in  that  town 
which  stands  looking  away  towards  Olympus. 
Life  in  those  hospitals  must  be  a  most  unmiti- 
gated form  of  exile,  witli  none  of  the  ameliorations 
of  a  civilized  life  to  make  it  tolerable.  Our  nurses 
there  have  known  what  it  is  to  be  spat  upon  in 
those  filthy  streets,  and  there  is  nothing  in  the 
streets  to  make  them  worth  visiting.  It  is  just  a 
matter  of  work  and  sleep,  with  a  considerable 
chance  of  sickness  thrown  in  for  the  sake  of  variety. 
Sometimes  they  will  tell  you  of  friends  across  in 
Alexandria,  and  of  the  letters  they  write  telling 
of  the  good  time  they  are  having.  For  my  own 
part  I  do  not  love  Alexandria  at  all,  but  I  know 
that  there  are  shop  windows  with  interesting  things 
to  examine,  that  there  are  wide,  sunswept  streets, 
and  English  people  passing  to  and  fro,  and  women 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

in  pretty  frocks,  and  a  most  admirable  place  for 
tea  near  to  the  top  of  Rue  Cherif  Pacha,  on  the 
left-hand  side.  And  anyhow  one  would  rather  be 
anywhere  on  earth  than  in  Salonika. 

But  they  do  not  complain,  those  brave,  kind 
women — they  work  their  miracles  instead.  You 
may  lie  in  your  place  day  after  day  and  watch 
how  they  bring  men  back  from  the  very  gates  of 
death.  It  is  a  fine  thing  to  see,  that  relentless 
struggle  for  a  life.  You  may  have  enough  knowl- 
edge to  appreciate  it,  to  know  how  small  are  the 
chances  of  recovery,  how  it  must  all  depend  on 
care,  science  having  done  all  in  its  power.  And 
you  note  every  morning  a  little  improvement,  a 
little  accession  of  strength.  There  is  a  touch  of 
healthier  color  in  the  poor,  worn  face,  a  little 
light  of  interest  in  the  eyes;  presently  there  is 
movement  and  reasonable  speech,  and  the  dark 
shadow  passes  away.  By  the  time  they  are  making 
ready  to  take  him  to  the  hospital  ship,  you  know 
with  exact  and  definite  knowledge  that  only  un- 
failing service  has  prevented  the  erection  of  another 
of  those  little  crosses  which  mark  the  resting 
places  of  the  men  who  could  not  live  long  enough 
to  get  home. 


1^2 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  WAY  OUT  OF  THE  LAND 

IN  my  early  days  in  the  country,  when  we  lived 
for  a  time  on  the  high  plateau  by  Hortiack,  we 
would  sit  outside  our  huts  in  the  evening  and  watch 
the  shipping  in  the  bay  with  an  interest  only  to 
be  understood  by  those  who  have  been  in  exile. 
It  is  some  mitigation  to  be  able  to  look  at  a  ship. 
It  stands  for  freedom,  freedom  to  go  out  across 
the  seas  of  the  world  and  come  at  last  to  your 
own  place.  One  is  apt,  I  suppose,  to  grow  rather 
sentimental  in  those  distant  places.  After  all  it 
is  almost  the  only  luxury. 

There  would  be  ships  of  all  nations  with  strange 
and  violent  designs  painted  along  their  sides,  and 
there  would  be  the  brave  dingy  tramps  which  sail 
so  fearlessly  under  our  own  flag,  longing  for  a 
chance  to  settle  a  submarine.  War  boats  of  every 
kind  would  be  there,  and  transports  moving  up  from 
the  sea  with  their  burden  of  troops.  And  most 
beautiful  of  all  the  hospital  ships,  painted  green 
and  white  with  the  great  red  crosses  promising  to 
all  who  sailed  on  them  a  space  of  rest  and  peace, 

173 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

a  refuge  prepared  from  all  the  weariness  and  tu- 
mult of  war. 

It  will  not,  perhaps,  be  hard  to  understand  why 
we  looked  at  those  green  and  white  ships  with 
an  intense,  peculiar  affection.  Holidays  have  no 
great  place  in  the  scheme  of  things  in  Macedonia. 
The  men  in  France  have  their  leave  to  look  for- 
,ward  to.  They  know  that  every  few  months  they 
will  get  their  days  of  release.  They  will  be  able 
to  cross  to  England,  to  be  with  their  own  people, 
to  walk  the  streets  of  their  towns  and  be  in  the 
keeping  of  their  homes.  But  there  is  no  such  pros- 
pect in  front  of  the  man  who  lands  at  Salonika. 
Very,  very  rarely  it  happens  that  a  man  who  has 
been  in  that  country  for  a  year  is  miraculously  pre- 
sented with  permission  to  spend  a  fortnight  at 
home,  but  those  instances  are  so  scarce  as  to  be 
negligible.  One  you  get  to  Salonika  you  have 
every  chance  of  staying  there  for  the  duration  of 
the  war  unless  the  authorities  should  decide  in 
some  moment  of  wisdom  that  the  expedition  is  un- 
profitable and  that  our  armies  would  be  more  use- 
ful elsewhere.  That  being  the  case  we  should  have 
been  more  than  human  if  we  had  not  realized  that 
those  hospital  ships  offered  our  only  chance  of  a 
holiday,  our  only  hope  of  finding  our  way  home. 

I  can  see  that  I  shall  have  to  write  this  rather 
carefully  or  some  petulant  pacifist  or  one  of  the 
other  enemies  of  our  nation  will  be  twisting  my 

174 


THE    WAY    OUT    OF    THE    LAND 

words  to  mean  that  our   men   in   Macedonia   are 
discontented    and    mutinous    and    seeking    every    op- 
portunity to  escape.    That,  of  course,  would  be  the 
most  damnable  libel  on  a  gallant  and  devoted  body 
of  men   that   could  ever  be  devised  by   the   most 
lying   and   malignant   Hun.     There    is   the    wides"t\ 
possible  difference  between  realizing  that  a  thing  I 
is  desirable  and  setting  to  work  to  obtain  it.     We  • 
had  come  to  the  country  to  do  something,  and  the 
fact   that   that   something   had   turned   out   to   be 
monotonous  and  entirely  unlike  our  dream  of  war 
was  irritating,  but  it  had  to  be  done  and  we  meant 
to  do  it.     At  the  same  time  it  was  only  natural 
that  we  should  realize  that  it  would  be  a  happy 
thing  to  journey  down  to  the  sea  on  one  of  those 
pretty  ships,  and  that,  whatever  their  sufferings, 
those  who  made  that  journey  were  enviable  people. 
That  after  all  is   the  great   consolation  of   the 
soldier  in  a  vast  citizen  army  such  as  this  which 
the  British  Empire  has  created  in  the  hour  of  its 
necessity.     It   is    rather   different    with    the   born 
soldier,  the  man  who  loves  fighting  for   its   own 
sake,  the  man  who  would  have  been  in  the  army 
in  any  event  and  was  probably  serving  before  the 
war  broke  out.    He  is  the  spiritual  descendant  of 
those  old  adventurers  who  in  the  distant  past  left 
their  own  land  when  it  was  at  peace  and  went  to 
serve  in  the  armies  of  other  nations  in  a  life-long 
quest  of  conflict.     Such  a  man  is  liable  to   fume 

^75 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

and  fret  when  for  a  time  he  is  laid  aside.  There 
are  no  ties  of  home  to  bind  him.  There  are  no 
distant  voices  calling  to  him.  One  land  is  as  good 
as  another,  one  face  as  fair  as  another  and  the 
camp  is  his  chosen  habitation.  But  such  as  he 
do  not  at  any  time  form  the  bulk  of  a  nation, 
especially  of  such  a  nation  as  our  own  where  the 
fighting  has  for  so  long  been  in  the  hands  of  pro- 
fessionals and  the  born  adventurers  go  naturally 
to  the  sea.  Our  armies  must  inevitably  contain  a 
large  precentage  of  men  who  cannot  know  real 
happiness  and  content  away  from  their  homes. 
Always  they  must  hear  the  little  whispering  of 
remembered  voices ;  before  their  eyes  there  must 
always  be  the  vision  of  some  little  house  in  which, 
for  them,  all  the  excellence  and  beauty  of  living 
are  contained. 

For  these  men  there  is  a  comfort  to  sustain  them 
through  all  the  pain  of  wounds  and  sickness.  In 
the  hour  of  darkness  and  dereliction  there  is  light. 
How  often  has  the  story  been  told  of  our  lads  in 
France  when,  with  their  bodies  shattered  by  great 
wounds,  a  smile  has  come  to  wipe  the  pain  from 
their  faces  and  they  have  controlled  their  quiver- 
ing lips  to  whisper,  "Me  for  Blighty."  And  if  that 
consolation  is  effectual  in  France,  can  you  not 
realize  how  far  more  effectual  it  must  be  on  the 
distant  battlefields  where  the  man  had  no  hope  of 
peeing  his  home  while  the  war  endured  and  even, 

176 


THE    WAY    OUT    OF    THE    LAND 

it  might  be,  for  many  months  after  peace  returned 
to  the  earth  ?     If  you  think  of  our  men  of  the  Ter- 
ritorials and  the  New  Armies  who  have  been  in 
India,  in  Egypt,  Mesopotamia  and  Macedonia  since 
a  few  months  after  the  war  began,  can  you  wonder 
that   they   think   longingly   of   the  hospital   ships? 
That  is  not  wonderful  at  all.     The  thing  which 
is  wonderful  is  that,  in  spite  of  the  longing,  there 
should  be  such  consistent  and  sustained  efforts  to 
avoid  making  that  desired  journey.     It  is  and  will 
remain  wonderful  that  our  men  who  are  sick  or 
wounded  in  those  far  lands  should  so  often  insist 
that  there  is  nothing  the  matter  with  them  and 
that  they  are  perfectly  well  able  to  carry  on.     I 
remember  one  man,  a  gray-headed  fellow  of  forty. 
He  had  been  telling  me  of  trouble  in  his  home,  of 
sickness  and  the  failing  health  of  his  wife.     His 
heart  was  torn  with  anxiety  and  he  was  in  a  mood 
to    curse    Macedonia,   and   the    day    that   led   him 
to  the  recruiting  office.    A  week  later  I  saw  there 
was  something  wrong  with  him.     By  all  the  signs 
malaria   had   laid   hold   of   him,   but   he   stood   up 
before  me,  shaken  as  he  was  with  the  fever,  and 
lied  to  me,  declaring  that  he  was  perfectly  well, 
and  it  was  a  fortnight  before  weakness  conquered 
him  and  he  had  to  be  taken  away.     And  he  was 
only  one  of  many,  of  very,  very  many.     Over  and 
over  again  you  may  see  it,  out  there  on  the  far 
fringes  of  the  war.    I  have  seen  it  in  Egypt,  down 

^77 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

on  the  edge  of  the  eternal  sand,  I  have  seen  it  in 
hospitals  in  Alexandria,  and  across  the  length  and 
breadth  of  Macedonia.  "I'm  all  right,"  the  story 
runs.  "Why  don't  they  send  me  back?"  "See  you 
again  in  a  week,  boys,"  said  one  of  our  men  as 
they  carried  him  away  to  the  Field  Ambulance, 
and  we  heard  later  that  he  died  a  week  after  the 
hospital  ship  brought  him  to  England. 

But  I  began  this  chapter  with  the  intention  of 
telling  of  the  way  out  of  Macedonia,  the  way  of 
the  green  and  white  ships  over  which  so  many 
thousands  have  passed,  not  through  any  skill  of 
the  enemy  but  simply  by  reason  of  the  malice  of 
the  land.  It  might  be  as  well  to  carry  out  that 
original  intention. 

We  who  sat  on  that  plateau  under  the  shadow 
of  Kotos  used  to  watch  the  hospital  ships  and  to 
make  small  jokes  among  ourselves  as  to  when  our 
turns  for  the  journey  would  come,  and  what  the 
trouble  would  be  that  would  carry  us  out  of  the 
land.  We  went  down  to  the  plains  and  the  char- 
acteristic troubles  of  the  country  began  to  pick 
and  choose  among  us,  selecting  their  victims  with 
fantastic  uncertainty,  and  those  poor  little  jests 
were  carried  on.  "Hullo,  booked  your  passage  on 
a  green  and  white?"  would  be  the  question  put  to 
any  one  who  turned  up  in  the  morning  with  a 
strikingly  yellow  complexion.  "Give  my  regards 
to   Leicester    Square,"   would   be    the    last    words 

178 


THE    WAY    OUT    OF    THE    LAND 

called  after  the  ambulance  as  it  trotted  away, 
carrying  someone  who  protested  with  violence  that 
he  was  perfectly  well.  To  one  after  another  the 
summons  came,  and  at  last  it  was  my  turn  and  I 
was  carried,  very  much  surprised  but  very  com- 
fortable, down  to  a  hospital  on  the  edge  of  the 
sea. 

The  things  which  happen  to  the  soldier  who 
reaches  one  of  those  admirable  hopitals  which 
stand  about  Salonika  depend  altogether  on  the 
extent  and  nature  of  his  trouble.  Some,  of  course, 
get  better  in  two  or  three  weeks.  They  have  that 
space  of  rest,  of  the  luxury  of  sleeping  in  proper 
beds  and  of  unusual  food,  and  then  they  go  quite 
cheerily  back  to  their  units.  Others  improve  a 
little  but  not  so  much  as  might  be  desired,  and 
one  day  a  very  senior  medical  officer  comes  round 
and  declares  that  they  must  be  sent  to  Malta. 
Others  again  are  obviously  so  ill  or  so  badly 
wounded  that  they  will  never  be  able  to  serve  in 
Macedonia  again,  but  they,  too,  are  sent  to  Malta, 
for  it  is  not  the  custom  now  to  send  people  straight 
home  to  England  from  Salonika.  Everyone  goes 
first  to  that  island  w^hich  has  been  turned  into  a* 
tremendous  hospital,  where  under  the  old  shadow 
of  the  Knights  of  St.  John  the  work  of  healing  is 
carried  out  on  a  scale  more  spacious  than  anything 
of  which  they  in  their  time  could  dream. 

So  there  is  every  now  and  then  in  those  hospitals 

179 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

a  jolly  day  of  packing  and  preparation.  There  are 
men  who  have  had  to  lie  without  moving  for  weeks, 
and  there  are  smiles  on  their  faces  while  the  order- 
lies run  to  and  fro  and  baggage  reappears  from 
the  stores  in  which  it  has  been  locked  away. 
Others  are  stumbling  about  on  crutches,  and  others 
again  walk  proudly  if  a  little  unsteadily  up  and 
down,  saying  good-bye  to  their  companions  of  a 
little  while,  and  collecting  messages  from  nurses 
to  be  given  to  nurses  in  Malta.  The  motor  ambu- 
lances are  at  the  door  and  presently  they  roll  away 
down  the  long  road  which  leads  to  the  quay  where 
the  green  and  white  tender  is  waiting.  Out  in 
the  bay  the  ship  is  ready  to  receive  its  happy  pas- 
sengers and  all  day  long  the  stream  of  feeble  but 
smiling  people  is  passing  over  the  gangways. 

There  is  one  view  of  all  these  towns  of  exile 
which  is  fit  to  take  its  place  among  the  loveliest 
views  in  the  world — the  view  over  the  stern  as 
the  departing  ship  bears  one  away.  That  view 
of  Alexandria  convinced  me  of  the  splendor  of 
the  sweltering  town,  that  view  of  Salonika  left 
with  me  a  vision  of  enduring  loveliness.  Later  on 
that  view  of  Valletta  was  to  leave  with  me  a  mem- 
ory of  sunlit  beautiful  age,  enduring  still  to  serve 
the  generations. 

Salonika  from  the  sea  has  a  power  and  glory  of 
its  own.  One  is  away  from  the  detestable  streets 
and  the  utterly  alien  people.     It  is  no  longer  pos- 

i8o 


THE    WAY    OUT    OF    THE    LAND 

sible  to  be  afflicted  by  the  abominable  smells  or 
deafened  by  the  crash  and  clatter  of  iron  tires 
across  the  primitive  paving  of  the  road.  It  lies, 
pierced  by  the  tall  fingers  of  the  minarets,  with 
trees  breaking  the  monotony  of  the  tall  buildings, 
with  the  hills  rising  very  nobly  behind  it  and  with 
the  excellent  beauty  of  Kotos  standing  as  a  banner 
to  the  east.  All  the  unpleasant  things  are  forgot- 
ten, and  as  the  picture  fades  into  the  majesty  of 
the  mountains  one  can  even  think  of  it  kindly. 
And  to  be  able  to  think  kindly  of  Salonika  is  a 
;great  miracle.  Presently  there  is  the  glory  of 
Olympus  in  the  west  and  there  comes  a  little  rise 
and  lift  beneath  the  feet  as  the  ship  begins  to  feel 
the  power  of  the  open  sea. 

Those  were  the  days  before  the  Britannic  and 
the  Braemar  Castle  were  sunk,  before  the  Hun  had 
declared  to  an  outraged  world  his  determination 
to  sink  hospital  ships.  In  those  days  one  of  the 
green  and  white  boats  was  a  kind  of  Ark,  a  place 
of  refuge  where  one  escaped  for  a  time  from  all 
the  circumstances  of  war.  When  we  went  on  board 
our  revolvers  and  ammunition  were  taken  from 
us.  W^hat  becam.e  of  the  ammunition  I  do  not 
know.  It  may  have  been  sent  ashore,  or  it  may 
have  been  dropped  over  the  side.  The  revolvers 
were  locked  away  and  we  did  not  see  them  again 
until  we  reached  the  journey's  end.  The  Hun  tales 
of  the  abuse  of  hospital  ships  are  on  the  same  level 

i8j 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

as  the  rest  of  the  lies  of  that  mendacious  race. 
There  has  never  been  anything  of  the  kind ;  we  have 
played  the  game  all  through. 

We  went  out  upon  the  sea  and  the  night  came 
down  and  received  us,  and  we  thought  of  other 
nights  when  the  transports  went  stealthily  through 
the  darkness.  Through  all  the  hours  men  would 
be  standing  with  loaded  rifles  ready  to  act  on  the 
first  sign  of  danger.  There  would  be  the  closed 
and  blinded  portholes  and  the  stifling  air  of  the 
cabins  that  killed  the  power  of  sleep  and  drove 
us  in  desperation  on  to  the  dark  and  silent  decks. 
There  we  would  stand,  peering  out  into  the  dark 
of  perilous  night,  searching  for  the  ghostly  form 
of  the  little  destroyer  that  tried  the  way  before  us. 

All  that  was  past.  We  went  now  splendid  with 
innumerable  lights,  green  and  white  still  through 
the  darkness.  Through  the  wide  open  ports  there 
came  the  delicate  air  of  the  night  to  cleanse  and 
refresh  our  unhappy  bodies  and  bring  them  com- 
fort. Those  gleaming  lights  proclaimed  to  all  who 
might  pass  the  fact  that  we  were  apart  from  the 
main  occupation  of  the  peoples  of  the  earth,  that 
from  the  heart  of  the  conflict  we  had  come  to  the 
place  of  peace.  In  those  wide,  air-swept  wards  we 
slept  as  those  may  sleep  whose  travail  is  accom- 
plished, whose  strife  is  at  an  end. 

It   was   on   our   second   evening   that   the   con- 
trast between  our  lot  and  the  lot  of  all  others  who 

182 


THE    WAY    OUT    OF    THE    LAND 

went  out  on  the  waters  upon  their  lawful  occa- 
sions was  most  violently  brought  home  to  us.  Far 
away  as  darkness  fell  a  light  became  visible.  When 
we  went  on  deck  after  dinner  it  was  flaming  high, 
and  we  crowded  to  the  rail  staring  at  it  with  won- 
dering eyes.  Presently  we  gathered  that  it  was 
a  sort  of  a  signal  light — I  have  forgotten  its  official 
name — a  thing  which  would  float  on  the  water 
and  burn  for  many  hours.  It  was  certain  that  in 
the  neighborhood  there  would  be  people  in  boats, 
awaiting  deliverance. 

There  was,  as  it  turned  out,  only  one  boat.  The 
story  was  quite  on  the  usual  lines.  A  tramp  steamer 
was  working  up  to  Salonika  when  the  submarine 
found  it  and  fired  the  torpedo  without  warning. 
The  skipper  had  remained  by  his  ship  to  the  last 
in  the  boat  which  was  found,  while  the  rest  of  the 
crew  had  been  picked  up  an  hour  after  the  torpedo 
did  its  work. 

We  swung  up  through  the  night,  slowed  and 
stopped,  and  there,  far  below  us  was  the  little 
boat,  dancing  on  the  easy  waves  while  our  lights 
fell  across  the  pale,  upturned  faces.  A  ladder 
slipped  down  our  side,  and  the  little  figures  were 
clambering  up.  Last  of  all  came  the  skipper, 
hugging  all  sorts  of  possessions  under  his  arms, 
and  the  little  boat  slipped  past  us  and  away  into 
the  darkness  as  our  engines  awoke  once  more,  for 
a  hospital  ship  may  perform  no  act  of  salvage,  not 

183 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

even  so  much  as  the  hoisting  of  a  little  boat  out 
of  the  sea.  It  was  left,  to  be  a  waif  and  a  stray 
upon  the  waters — that  thing  which  men  had  made 
so  carefully,  with  such  pride  and  skill  of  craftsman- 
ship. Far  below  the  waves  were  steering  to  and 
fro  above  the  steamer. 

And  above  something  more  than  the  steamer. 
The  captain  was  a  stolid,  red-faced  man  who  spoke 
very  little  and  very  rarely ;  but  once  to  a  few  of  us 
he  broke  his  silence.  "I  wouldn't  have  cared 
only  they  got  my  chief  engineer,''  he  said.  "We'd 
been  together  the  best  part  of  twenty  years.  He 
was  asleep  in  his  bunk  Avhen  they  came  along. 
Killed  him  like  a  dog.  No  warning,  no  chance  to 
send  him  a  word.  The  bloody  swine — the  bloody 
swine."  It  may  be  that  in  years  to  come  we  shall 
be  exhorted  not  to  hate  the  Germans  any  more, 
but  you  will  never  tear  that  hatred  out  of  the 
hearts  of  the  men  who  go  down  to  the  sea  in 
ships  and  have  seen  the  foul  treachery  of  the  Hun 
upon  the  deep  waters. 

But  we  at  least  journeyed  in  safety  and  came 
in  due  season  to  Malta,  which  has  become  a  sort 
of  Bournemouth  to  Macedonia.  Green  and  white 
ships  are  passing  in  and  out  of  the  complicated 
harbor  of  Valletta  all  the  time,  bringing  the  in- 
valids to  be  cured.  In  that  harbor  we  saw  one  or 
two  interesting  things  which  must  not  be  described, 
and  several  others  which  have  been  described  to 

184 


THE    WAY    OUT    OF    THE    LAND 

death  already,  and  when  at  last  we  were  safely 
on  land  again  we  found  that  Lord  Methuen,  who 
is  Governor  of  the  island  in  these  days,  had  come 
to  meet  us.  Also  he  had  come  to  inform  us  that 
a  new  War  Office  order  had  come  out  stating  that 
moustaches  need  not  be  worn  any  more.  We  were 
properly  grateful.  It  is  not  often  that  you  have  a 
Field  Marshal  to  give  you  directions  about  shaving. 

Malta  is  a  pleasing  island,  but  I  did  not  set  out 
to  write  a  book  about  it,  and  it  only  comes  in  now 
as  a  suburb  of  Salonika,  so  I  need  say  nothing  of 
the  interesting  and  curious  things  we  saw  there, 
neither  of  the  goats,  nor  of  the  curious  hats  of 
the  native  ladies,  nor  of  those  portable  farms  which 
you  can  pick  up  and  carry  away  in  a  cart.  The 
progress  of  the  soldier  who  arrives  at  Valletta 
from  Macedonia  is  that  he  goes  first  of  all  to  a 
hospital  and  remains  there  till  he  is  considered 
to  be  well  on  the  way  to  recovery.  Then  he  is 
passed  to  a  convalescent  camp  where  he  spends  a 
few  jolly  weeks  of  comparative  idleness  till  one 
fine  day  he  is  packed  off  to  an  embarkation  camp 
where  he  is  reminded  that  he  is  a  soldier  and  that 
he  knows  all  about  forming  fours  and  route 
marches  and  the  rest.  Finally  he  is  put  on  to  a 
transport — not  a  green  and  white  this  time — and 
goes  back  to  make  some  more  discoveries  about 
the  Seres  road. 

But   a   minority  do  not   go  back.     Somehow  or 

^85 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

other  they  cannot  contrive  to  get  better.  The 
clear  skies,  the  pleasant  breezes  and  the  fine  air 
will  not  accomplish  the  cure.  The  weeks  pass  and 
they  are  still  feeble.  Their  wounds  still  trouble 
them,  or  fever  still  comes  to  shake  and  torment 
them,  and  at  last  the  decision  is  taken.  They  must 
go  home.  It  is  not  for  them  to  remain  any  longer 
under  the  indescribable  blue  of  the  Mediterranean 
sky.  It  would  not  be  good  for  them  to  see  Sa- 
lonika again;  their  time  of  service  in  that  unhappy 
land  is  over.  They  are  free  to  dream  once  more 
of  gray  skies  above  a  gray  and  turbulent  sea,  of 
green  hills  and  the  depth  of  the  secret  woods  and 
of  all  the  dim  loveliness  of  our  own  land. 

So  there  came  a  day  when  a  very  happy  party 
of  us  went  once  more  to  Valletta  and  found  a 
hospital  ship  waiting  for  us,  a  ship  which  went  in 
time  threading  the  maze  of  the  harbor,  bearing 
us  away  across  the  open  sea  to  a  little  secret  bay 
where  a  green  and  white  monster  was  waiting  to 
receive  us.  The  Aquitania  is  not  rushing  million- 
aires from  one  side  of  the  Atlantic  to  the  other 
in  these  days  of  war.  She  has  something  else  to 
do,  and  her  great  halls  are  full  of  small  white 
beds.  Nine  shiploads  of  the  sick  passed  across  the 
gangways  from  the  lesser  vessels  which  serve  in 
the  Mediterranean,  and  then  the  mighty  engines 
were  at  work.  A  little  space  of  days  and  nights 
and  we  were  riding  the  Atlantic  swell  that  swings 

j86 


THE    WAY    OUT    OF    THE    LAND 

through  the  gate  of  Gibraltar.  Again  a  little 
while  and  England  rose  out  of  the  sea  to  greet 
and  comfort  her  returning  sons. 


i!<7 


PART  II 
CHAPTER  I 
The  Prelude 

NOWHERE  in  the  world  is  it  possible  to  find 
a  tract  of  land  so  important  and  so  little  un- 
derstood as  the  Balkan  Peninsula.  Its  im- 
portance can  be  judged  by  the  fact  that  through  the 
ages  it  has  been  continually  ravaged  by  war;  but  it 
is  hard  to  find  anything  to  prove  how  little  it  has 
been  understood.  Before  the  war  intelligent  and  edu- 
cated people  were  in  the  habit  of  looking  very  wise 
and  nodding  gravely  whenever  the  Balkan  states  were 
mentioned,  but  I  doubt  if  one  in  fifty  of  them  could 
have  given  a  clear  account  of  the  recent  history  of 
Adrianople  or  Scutari  or  of  Salonika  itself.  And  yet 
it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  in  the  story  of  those 
three  towns  there  is  to  be  found  the  immediate  preface 
to  the  war  which  occupies  the  world  today. 

What  I  have  to  do  in  this  chapter  is  to  give  as  brief 
and  as  clear  an  account  as  possible  of  the  condition  of 
affairs  in  the  Peninsula  immediately  before  the  war. 
To     deal     with     the     matter     in     detail     would 

i88 


THE     PRELUDE 


require  quite  a  number  of  large,  dull  books.  For 
my  own  part  I  should  hate  to  have  to  write  a 
full  history  of  the  Balkans,  and  I  suspect  that 
most  people  would  hate  to  have  to  read  it.  Many 
admirable  works  on  the  subject  have  appeared  in 
many  countries,  and  to  them  all  in  serch  of  fuller 
information  must  be  referred.  All  that  I  can  do 
is  to  give  the  broad  outlines,  but  if  they  are  prop- 
erly grasped  a  big  step  forward  will  have  been 
taken. 

The  first  fact  to  be  noted  is  contained  in  a  short 
sentence.     It  is  this:  It  is  not  possible  to  draw  an 
accurate  ethnographic  map  of  the   Balkan  Penin-  i 
sula.     The  races  have  become  so  mixed  that  it  is  ; 
not  possible  to  say  of  one  part  of  the  country  that   \ 
here  you  will  find  Turks,  here  Greeks,  here  Serbs,  ] 
and  here  Bulgars.     It  is  not  even  possible  to  say 
that  there  is  a  line  between  the  districts  occupied 
by  the  Christians  and  those  held  by  Moslems.    Sa- 
lonika  itself,   in  the   days   when   I   knew   it,   was 
eloquent   of    the    confusion    which   lay   in    all    the 
country  behind.     As  you   came  up   from  the   sea 
the  outstanding  feature  was  formed  of  the  innu- 
merable minarets  of  the  mosques ;  later  you  dis- 
covered that  the  town  contained  Christian  churches 
of  great  age,  and  later  still  you  discovered  that  it 
was    largely    inhabited   by    Spanish   Jews.     In    all 
that  country  to  the  north  of  the  town,  of  which 
I  have  written  in  the  first  part  of  this  book,  there 


i8p 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

able  when  nations  are  only  separated  from  one 
another  by  lines  drawn  on  a  map.  Austria  and  Rus- 
sia sat  watching  each  other,  and  on  the  flank  there 
was  Italy,  and  far  to  the  north  the  Prussian  state 
was  considering  the  road  to  the  East.  All  these 
were  regarding  the  Balkans  and  one  another;  all 
had  determined  that  they  must  have  a  voice  in 
the  happenings  on  the  Peninsula.  There  came  to 
Germany  the  dream  of  Mitteleuropa,  the  State 
which  was  to  stretch  from  the  Baltic  to  the  Per- 
sian Gulf.  Austria,  filled  with  fears  of  Russia  and 
of  her  own  Eastern  subjects,  became  a  willing  ally. 
Russia  herself,  reaching  out  to  a  port  on  warm 
water  beyond  the  Dardanelles,  took  the  Slav  races 
of  the  Peninsula  under  her  special  protection;  and 
Italy,  remembering  how  in  the  past  she  had  been 
despoiled  by  Austria,  became  very  watchful.  The 
stage  was  set  for  the  tremendous  drama  in  which 
we  all  are  playing  a  part  today. 

Farsighted  and  thorough,  Germany  began  to 
prepare  for  the  end  which  she  desired.  There  was 
a  coming  and  going  of  German  agents  through 
the  Balkans  and  there  was  an  amount  of  diplomatic 
work  whose  purpose  was  hardly  realized  at  the 
time.  There  is  no  need  to  trace  the  course  of  it 
here;  it  is  enough  to  point  out  that  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  war  the  thrones  of  Bulgaria,  Greece 
and  Roumania  were  all  occupied  by  men  who  had  every 
reason  to  favor  the  German  cause.     But  beyond 

1^2 


THE     PRELUDE 


all  this  was  the  progress  made  in  Turkey.  The 
Kaiser  took  the  Moslem  races  of  the  world  under 
his  special  protection  and  his  servants  worked  un- 
ceasingly to  prove  to  the  Turks  that  in  all  Europe 
they  had  only  one  friend.  German  officers  took 
charge  of  the  Turkish  army  and  shaped  it  accord- 
ing to  their  own  ideas.  Krupps'  factory  made  guns 
for  that  army,  and  advice  and  aid  in  military 
matters  was  to  be  had  for  the  asking.  There  came 
at  last  the  projected  Berlin-Bagdad  railway  and 
the  heart  of  the  German  idea  was  written  in  letters 
which  all  the  world  might  have  read  if  all  the  world 
had  been  able  in  those  remote  days  of  peace  to 
look  at  such  matters  as  we  can  look  at  them  today. 
If,  then  you  take  Balkan  affairs  as  they  stood 
ten  years  ago,  they  were  roughly  as  follows:  In 
the  first  place,  Turkey  still  ruled  the  major  portion 
of  the  Peninsula.  If  you  can  find  a  map  of  that 
time  you  will  see  that  Turkey  in  Europe  was  quite 
considerable,  and  to  all  outward  appearance  im- 
portant. But  behind  all  this  appearance  of  power 
there  was  the  developing  strength  of  those  which 
we  may  call  the  native  Balkan  states.  Both  Serbia 
and  Bulgaria  had  memories  of  the  past  and  ambi- 
tions for  the  future,  and  in  their  remote  and  limited 
areas  they  were  preparing  for  a  struggle  which 
should  restore  to  them  the  glories  of  the  past  and 
establish  them  in  splendor.  Greece,  too,  had 
visions  of  power,  and  Roumania  shared  the  general 


^93 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

desire  for  the  expulsion  of  the  Turk.  But  in  addi- 
tion to  these  ideas  which  were  flourishing  in  the 
Peninsula  there  were  the  ideas  of  the  European 
!  Powers.  Russia  was  determined,  mainly  for  her 
,  own  sake,  to  protect  the  Slav  races,  and  Germany 
J  was  equally  determined  to  secure  for  herself  a  path 
through  the  Balkans  to  the  Persian  Gulf.  Believ- 
ing in  the  permanence  of  the  Turk,  she  sought 
chiefly  to  establish  herself  in  power  in  Turkey, 
but  she  did  not  neglect  the  other  nations.  Every- 
where her  agents  were  at  work.  By  countless 
devious  methods  which  no  one  else  understood  or 
in  the  least  appreciated  before  the  war,  she  was 
making  friends  for  herself  in  all  the  countries.  Her 
soldiers  were  at  work  making  maps  so  that  when 
we  came  to  Salonika  and  sought  for  maps  of  the 
land  there  were  only  the  German  maps  to  be  had. 
Later  on,  our  own  Survey  provided  us  with  excel- 
lent maps,  but  in  the  earlier  days  we  had  only  those 
others,  loaded  with  detail,  and  freq*uently  inac- 
curate. 

Into  all  this  atmosphere  of  planning  and  plotting 
there  came  a  thing  which,  rightly  handled,  might 
have  prevented  this  war.  From  the  dreams  and 
desires  of  the  Balkan  races  there  arose  an  attempt 
to  give  form  and  substance  to  those  dreams.  There 
came  into  being  the  Balkan  League ;  the  Turk  was, 
for  all  practical  purposes,  bundled  out  of  Europe, 
and  for  a  little  while  it  must  have  seemed  to  the 

194 


THE     PRELUDE 


rulers  of  Prussia  that  all  their  work  was  foolish- 
ness and  their  labor  vain. 

There  is  no  space  for  a  history  of  the  Balkan 
War  of  1912,  or  even  of  the  intensely  interesting 
series  of  events  which  led  up  to  it.  Years  of  patient 
labor  went  to  the  forming  of  the  League.  There 
were  all  sorts  of  old  jealousies  and  suspicions  to 
be  overcome.  The  Balkan  nations  had  a  fine  crop 
of  grievances  against  one  another,  and  the  ques- 
tion of  Macedonia  itself  was  enough  to  set  them 
at  enmity  one  with  another — as  most  unhappily  it 
did  at  a  later  date.  In  Macedonia  more  than  any- 
where else  the  confusion  of  races  is  so  acute  that 
each  of  the  nations  can  put  forward  some  sort  of 
an  ethnographic  claim  to  at  least  a  part  of  the 
district.  Serbia,  Bulgaria  and  Greece  were  all 
thinking  longingly  of  Salonika,  and  they  did  not 
trust  each  other.  And  yet  the  League  was  formed, 
owing  chiefly  to  the  skill  of  that  great  statesman, 
M.  Venezelos.  The  nations  made  their  prepara- 
tions with  incessant  toil  and  sacrifice.  The  move- 
ment was  utterly  and  intensely  popular,  and  all 
classes  were  on  fire  for  its  success.  There  came 
Turkey's  war  with  Italy  in  Tripoli  and  it  seemed 
that  the  time  was  ripe.  The  last  preparations  were 
swiftly  and  most  secretly  made. 

At  the  last  moment  the  Powers  of  Europe  be- 
came aware  that  something  really  serious  was 
taking  place,  and  they  joined  in  one  of  the  most 


m 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

preposterous  performances  of  which  diplomacy  has 
ever  been  guilty.  An  ultimatum  was  presented  to 
Serbia,  Montenegro,  Greece  and  Bulgaria  forbid- 
ding them  to  fight  and  assuring  them  that  if  they 
did  they  would  not  be  allowed  to  profit  by  any 
victory  they  might  win.  The  King  of  Montenegro 
declared  war  on  Turkey  on  the  day  that  that  price- 
less document  reached  him,  and  his  allies  were  close 
behind  him.  In  a  month  Turkey  in  Europe  had 
ceased  to  exist.  Four  tiny  nations  with  a  total 
population  of  some  ten  millions  had  defeated  a 
Power  with  twenty-five  million  inhabitants.  There 
remained  to  Turkey  only  Scutari,  Adrianople  and 
Constantinople. 

There  followed  the  business  of  dividing  the 
spoils.  There  was  all  that  tract  of  conquered  ter- 
ritory to  be  disposed  of,  and  there  were  the  four 
allies  to  share  it.  Also,  there  was  Roumania,  who 
came  forward  with  a  claim  for  compensation  for 
her  forbearance  in  remaining  neutral.  And  be- 
yond all  these  there  were  the  Powers  of  Europe, 
full  of  suspicion  of  one  another  and  determined  to 
secure  that  no  advantage  should  be  gained  by  any 
possible  enemies.  Austria,  Italy,  Russia  and  espe- 
cially Germany  were  determined  that  the  parti- 
tion of  the  possessions  of  the  Turk  should  be 
settled  on  lines  agreeable  to  themselves,  and  diplo- 
macy was  at  work  once  more. 

To  describe  the  happenings  of  the  months  which 

ip6 


THE     PRELUDE 


followed  the  war  would  be  a  long  and  unpleasant 
business.  Delegates  from  the  nations  met  in  Lon- 
don and  argued  endlessly.  The  agents  of  the 
Powers  were  at  work  also  with  all  manner  of  sub- 
terranean influences.  Germany,  in  particular,  was 
urging  Bulgaria  along  a  course  which  could  have 
only  one  end. 

It  is  necessary  to  glance  at  the  position  of  Bul- 
garia. She  went  into  the  war  with  a  great  desire 
for  Salonika.  She  needed  such  a  port,  and  there 
was  also  the  fact  that  that  part  of  Macedonia  which 
lies  between  the  town  and  her  borders  does  con- 
tain a  number  of  Bulgars.  It  happened,  however, 
that  in  the  course  of  the  war,  the  part  allotted  to 
her  took  her  away  from  that  goal  of  her  desire 
and  forced  her  to  do  most  of  her  fighting  in  the 
direction  of  Constantinople.  The  actual  occupa- 
tion of  Salonika  was  effected  by  the  Greeks.  Short- 
ly after  they  had  entered  the  town,  a  Bulgar 
army  appeared  and  desired  to  take  part  in  its 
occupation.  Even  then,  in  the  midst  of  the  cam- 
paign, the  allies  nearly  came  to  blows,  and  it  was 
made  very  clear  that  Greece  meant  to  keep  the 
town. 

Serbia,  too,  put  in  a  claim  to  the  place.  The 
Powers  decided  that  she  must  not  be  permitted  a 
port  on  the  Adriatic — ^here  again  the  hand  of  Prus- 
sian diplomacy  was  at  work — and  she  desired  an 
outlet  to  the  sea.    The  Greeks  had  their  dream  of 


ip; 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

a  realm  which  should  stretch  to  Constantinople,  and 
they  had  no  idea  of  giving  up  the  town  which  they 
had  occupied. 

Left  to  themselves,  or  aided  by  wise  and  honest 
counsel,  it  is  possible  that  the  Balkan  States  might 
have  worked  out  a  solution  of  the  problem,  but  that 
was  the  last  thing  desired  by  the  Prussian  states- 
men. A  Balkan  League  of  nations,  living  at  amity 
one  with  another  meant  the  end  of  the  dream  of 
Mitteleuropa.  It  put  a  barrier  aross  the  way  to 
the  Persian  Gulf,  and  spelt  the  failure  of  all  that 
long  endeavor  which  began  when,  in  1889,  the 
Kaiser  paid  his  first  State  visit  to  any  European 
sovereign  by  journeying  to  Constantinople.  With 
characteristic  malice  and  zeal,  the  Prussian  diplo- 
mats set  to  work  to  fan  the  passions  of  the  late 
allies  and  to  create  a  tempest  which  would  render 
the   continuance  of  the   League  impossible. 

I  said  at  the  begining  of  this  chapter  that  in  the 
story  of  Salonika,  Adrianople,  and  Scutari  is  to  be 
found  the  immediate  preface  of  the  present  war. 
The  truth  of  that  statement  so  far  as  Salonika  is 
concerned  will  perhaps  be  clear  already.  In  the 
case  of  Scutari  the  position  was  rather  different. 
That  fortress  held  out  for  a  long  time,  but  the 
Montenegrins  wanted  it  and  determined  to  have 
it.  The  powers  ordered  Montenegro  to  stop  the 
siege,  but  the  men  of  the  Black  Mountain  were  not 
taking  orders  from  the  Powers,  and  at  last  they 

198 


THE     PRELUDE 


succeeded.  But  they  had  not  done  with  the  Powers. 
In  the  end  they  were  forced  to  give  it  up,  and  it 
became  the  capital  of  Albania,  a  state  created  on 
a  foundation  of  the  mutual  suspicions  of  the  rulers 
of  Europe.  Adrianople,  too,  held  out  long  after  the 
rest  of  the  Turkish  dominions  had  passed  into 
other  hands,  but  it  fell  at  the  last  and  for  a  time 
it  seemed  that  only  Constantinople  would  remain 
to  the  Turk  in  Europe. 

But  Germany  had  done  her  work  well,  and  Bul- 
garia went  to  war  with  Serbia  and  with  Greece,. 
Roumania  took  a  hand,  and  the  Turk  saw  his  op- 
portunity and  came  back  and  retook  Adrianople. 
Utterly  defeated,  Bulgaria  had  to  give  in,  and  when 
finally  the  partition  was  made,  she,  who  had  suf- 
fered more  heavily  than  any  nation  in  the  original 
war,  got  the  smallest  share  of  the  spoils.  The 
Balkan  League  had  come  to  an  end.  Instead  of 
the  unity  which  had  achieved  so  much  there  were 
only  new  hatreds,  new  grievances  and  Germany 
and  Austria  were  free  to  dream  once  more  of  the 
possession  of  Salonika  and  the  dominion  which 
should  stretch  from  the  Baltic  to  the  Mediter- 
ranean. 

It  is  impossible  to  blame  too  heavily  the  diplo- 
macy which  made  it  possible  for  such  a  condition 
of  things  to  come  about,  but  it  is  only  too  clear 
that  the  result  achieved  is  exactly  what  was  in- 
tended by  at  least  one  of  the  parties  to  the  trans- 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS, 

action.  Whether  or  not  the  other  Powers  could  have) 
brought  about  happier  results  is  a  point  which  the' 
future  may  decide;  the  one  thing  certain  is  that 
Prussian  methods  had  achieved  a  victory,  and  hadj 
left  the  Balkans  ripe  for  a  renewal  of  strife. 

They  had  robbed  those  beautiful  countries  of! 
the  prospect  of  peace  and  they  had  made  ready  the, 
way  for  the  conflict  which  is  shaking  the  world 
at  this  time,  and  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  the 
clever  people  of  the  Wilhelmstrasse  were  very 
pleased  with  themselves.  There  is  some  small  con- 
solation in  the  fact  that  history  will  know  how  ta 
condemn  them. 


'200 


CHAPTER  II 

THE    BALKANS    AND    THE    WAR 

WE  are  so  far  already  from  the  beginning  of 
the  war  that  it  is  necessary  to  run  over  very 
briefly  the  events  which  went  before  the  August  days 
which  saw  the  violation  of  Belgian  neutrality. 

The  heir  to  the  Austrian  throne  was  the  Arch- 
duke Franz  Ferdinand.  In  many  of  the  circles  of 
his  own  land  he  was  unpopular,  and  regarded  with 
suspicion.  Moreover,  he  was  morganatically  mar- 
ried, and  in  no  case  could  his  children  succeed  him. 
On  June  28,  1914,  he  and  his  wife  paid  a  visit  to 
Sarajevo,  the  capital  of  Bosnia.  It  must  be  re- 
membered that  Bosnia  had  been  annexed  by  the 
Austrians,  and  that  its  people  are  mainly  of  the 
Slav  race  and  suspected  of  sympathy  with  Serbia. 

On  the  occasion  of  this  visit  the  police  of 
Sarajevo  were  given  orders  to  take  no  precau- 
tions for  the  safety  of  the  visitors,  and  were  told 
that  the  military  would  provide  all  the  protection 
that  was  necessary.  While  the  visitors  were  driv- 
ing from  the  station,  a  bomb  was  thrown  at  their 


201 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

On  their  way  from  the  Town  Hall  to  the  hospital 
another  person  fired  at  the  Archduke  and  his  wife 
with  a  revolver,  and  mortally  wounded  both  of 
them. 

All  the  circumstance  of  the  assassinations  is 
mysterious.  It  is  true  that  the  man  who  fired  the 
shots  was  a  Serb,  though  not  a  subject  of  Serbia.  It  is 
true  that  the  crime  is  said  to  have  been  planned 
in  Belgrade,  but  it  has  never  been  proved  that  there 
was  any  knowledge  of  it  in  official  Serbian  circles. 
It  is  undoubtely  true  that  the  event  was  regarded 
with  satisfaction  in  many  parts  of  Austria,  and 
we  all  know  how  extremely  useful  the  Austrian 
government  found  it.  On  July  23  an  ultimatum 
was  presented  to  Serbia  which  required  her  not 
only  to  lick  the  dust  from  the  boots  of  Austria 
but  also  to  give  thanks  prettily  for  the  meal.  A 
more  thoroughly  abominable  document  could  not 
be  imagined,  and  Serbia  was  given  forty-eight 
hours   in  which   to   make   her   submission. 

And  Serbia  submitted.  On  eight  of  the  ten  chief 
points  she  gave  way  altogether,  and  she  did  not 
explicitly  refuse  submission  on  the  other  two.  But 
her  submission  was  useless.  She  was  not  intended 
to  submit  for  the  Germanic  Powers  had  made  all 
their  preparations  and  were  quite  ready  for  the 
war  of  which  they  had  dreamed  for  so  long.  On 
July  28,  Austria  declared  war  on  Serbia,  and  the 
nations    of    Europe    were    whirled    into    conflict, 

202 


THE    BALKANS    AND    THE    WAR 

Russia  was  drawn  in  as  the  natural  protector  of 
Slav  peoples.  On  August  1  Germany  declared  war 
on  Russia,  and  on  France  on  August  3.  There  fol- 
lowed the  violation  of  Belgium  and  the  entry  of 
England. 

It  is  difficult  in  writing  of  Balkan  affairs  at  this 
time  to  keep  strictly  to  the  matter  in  hand,  be- 
cause those  affairs  are  inextricably  linked  with 
the  affairs  of  the  world  and  there  are  such  count- 
less reactions  between  them.  This  war  has  be- 
come quite  clearly  and  definitely  a  struggle  for 
freedom  in  which  all  the  servants  of  freedom  in 
the  world  are  now  united.  From  the  very  begin- 
ning the  German  dream  was  one  of  subjugation 
and  of  a  dominion  of  force,  and  through  the  long 
years  of  the  conflict  the  fact  has  been  made  plain. 
But  it  is  necessary  to  remember  that  it  did  begin 
as  an  attack  on  Serbia,  and  to  bear  the  fact  in 
mind  because  of  the  influence  which  it  must  have 
on  the  shaping  of  events  after  the  victory  has  been 
won. 

Serbia  was  attacked  because  she,  the  rallying 
point  and  the  hope  of  the  Balkans,  stood  between 
Austria  and  Salonika,  and  also  between  Germany 
and  Constantinople.  With  Serbia  strong  and  estab- 
lished, it  was  hopeless  for  Austria  to  dream  of  the 
port  on  the  Aegean  of  which  she  had  dreamed  for 
so  long,  and  there  existed,  too,  across  Germany's 
road  to  the  East,  an  abiding  menace.    In  the  Prus- 

203 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

sian  view  the  essential  step  towards  the  fulfill- 
ing of  their  ambition  was  the  abolition  of  Serbia, 
with  the  simultaneous  crushing  of  Russia  and 
France  which  must  go  with  the  abolition. 

While  the  armies  were  swinging  into  action  in 
Flanders,  France  and  Russia,  Austria  set  to  work 
to  deal  with  Serbia,  and  attacked  the  little  country 
with  a  great  army.  For  four  months  there  was 
fierce  and  bitter  fighting,  and  at  last,  on  December 
2,  1914,  the  invaders  reached  the  capital,  Belgrade. 
Three  days  later  they  were  driven  out  again  and 
thrust  northward  once  more,  and  for  the  next  six 
months  the  enemy  were  too  busy  elsewhere  to  re- 
turn to  the  attack. 

It  was  an  amazing  performance — a  triumph  of 
intensely  mobile  troops  over  a  conventionally  armed 
and  equipped  modern  army.  The  Serbian  soldier 
with  his  long  loaf  of  bread,  his  hundred  cartridges 
and  his  rifle  could  go  anywhere  at  a  moment's 
notice  in  the  shortest  possible  time.  Moving  swiftly 
among  the  mountains  of  his  land,  he  harrassed  and 
tormented  and  destroyed  the  Austrians,  very  much 
as  the  British  troops  were  harrassed  by  the  Boers 
in  the  last  South  African  war.  But  there  was  one 
thing  lacking  in  the  Serbian  army,  and  a  more 
deadly  foe  than  the  Austrian  was  busy  through  aU 
the  country.  There  came  an  epidemic  of  typhus, 
and  the  Serbs  had  no  medical  service  capable  of 
dealing  with  it. 

204 


THE    BALKANS    AND    THE    WAR 

American  readers  will  not  need  to  be  reminded 
of  the  part  their  country  played  in  the  early  days 
of  the  war,  nor  will  it  ever  be  forgotten  in  Europe. 
Medical  missions  were  hurried  to  Serbia  from 
America  and  from  England.  Doctors  and  nurses 
and  stores  were  sent,  and  a  most  gallant,  and  in 
the  end  an  effective,  fight  was  made  against  the 
disease.  Some  of  us  know  something  of  the 
horrors  which  those  volunteers  had  to  face,  and 
though  there  is  no  need  to  dwell  on  them  here, 
I  have  myself  heard  stories  at  first  hand  which 
leave  nothing  at  all  to  the  imagination.  But  the 
sorrows  of  Serbia  were  only  beginning;  there  were 
far  more  bitter  things  in  store  for  her. 

While  all  this  had  been  happening,  and  indeed 
in  the  first  three  months  of  the  war,  Turkey  had 
chosen  the  part  which  she  intended  to  play,  the 
part  which  had  always  been  assigned  to  her  by 
the  Prussian.  On  the  outbreak  of  war  she  declared 
her  neutrality,  as  did  Greece,  Bulgaria  and  Rou- 
mania.  England,  France  and  Russia  gave  assur- 
ances that,  if  she  remained  neutral,  she  would  not 
be  disturbed  either  during  or  after  the  war,  and 
there  were  many  Turks  who  sincerely  desired  to 
remain  at  peace,  but  other  influences  were  too 
strong.  Germany  had  been  at  work  for  a  quarter 
of  a  century,  and  the  time  had  come  when  she 
needed  the  harvest  of  the  long  sowing.  It  was 
pointed  out  that  this  was  the  time  when  Egypt 

205 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

and  Cyprus  might  be  recovered  from  England. 
Every  imaginable  cause  of  offense  against  England 
v^as  magnified  and  insisted  upon.  Enver  Bey,  the 
most  pov^erful  man  in  Turkey,  had  recently  been 
appointed  Minister  of  War,  and  he  was  altogether 
German  in  sympathy.  A  German  general,  Liman 
Pasha  was  put  in  command  of  the  Turkish  army, 
and  on  October  28  a  Turkish  fleet  bombarded 
Odessa,  and  the  running  blaze  of  war  had  reached 
far  into  Asia  and  the  north  of  Africa.  The  cam- 
paigns in  Egypt,  Palestine  and  Mesopotamia  became 
inevitable :  the  way  was  cleared  for  the  tragedy 
of  Gallipoli,  and  a  new  point  and  seriousness  was 
given  to  those  small  street  campaigns  in  India 
which  have  occupied  so  much  of  the  attention  of 
England  all  through  the  war. 

But  though  Turkey  had  joined  with  the  Central 
Empires,  their  way  was  not  yet  clear  with  the 
Balkans.  Italy  still  stood  apart,  and  Germany  was 
anxious  not  to  draw  her  into  the  conflict.  At  the 
beginning  of  February,  1915,  Italy  informed  Austria 
that  any  further  action  in  the  Balkans  would  be 
regarded  as  an  unfriendly  act,  so  there  was  one 
reason  the  more  for  leaving  Serbia  alone.  But 
Italy  had  dreams  and  desires  of  her  own.  On  the 
eastern  coast  of  the  Adriatic  Austria  holds  terri- 
tory which  was  once  the  possession  of  Venice,  and 
Italy  saw  a  chance  to  recover  her  lost  provinces. 
On  May  25  she  declared  war  on  Austria,  and  one 

206 


THE    BALKANS    AND    THE    WAR 

chief  reason  for  inaction  in  the  Balkans  was  gone. 

At  the  time,  however,  the  Central  Powers  had 
another  Balkan  affair  on  their  hands.  In  February, 
English  and  French  ships  bombarded  the  forts  on 
the  Dardanelles.  At  the  end  of  April  the  first 
landing  was  made  on  the  Gallipoli  Peninsula,  and 
on  August  6  there  was  the  second  landing.  The 
world  knows  the  story  of  the  tragic  failure ;  all 
that  I  have  to  do  here  is  to  point  out  that  while 
there  remained  the  most  remote  prospect  of  the 
success  of  the  undertaking  it  was  the  gravest 
menace  to  the  German  plan,  and  our  enemies  were 
compelled  to  deal  with  it  before  attempting  any- 
other  enterprise.  But  before  the  end  of  August 
it  was  plain  that  Gallipoli  was  a  failure,  and  the 
consequences  of  that  failure  followed  swiftly.  It  is 
time  to  glance  at  the  position  of  Greece  and 
Bulgaria. 

In  Greece  at  the  beginning  of  the  war,  M.  Ven- 
ezelos  was  in  power.  You  will  remember  that  he 
was  practically  the  creator  of  the  Balkan  League. 
His  was  the  dream  of  a  federation  of  the  Balkan 
States  which  should  secure  peace  to  the  peninsula. 
It  is,  indeed,  still  the  only  means  whereby  the 
claims  of  nationality  can  be  safeguarded  and  the 
whole  problem  solved.  The  establishment  of  Ger- 
man rule  or  the  restoration  of  the  Turkish  Empire 
would  mean  the  end  of  that  dream  for  one  or 
perhaps  for  many  generations ;  it  might  even  mean 

2oy 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

the  death  of  those  valiant  little  nations,  since 
Germany  has  proved  conclusively  that  she  v^ill  not 
tolerate  nationality  other  than  her  own  and  that 
she  is  prepared  to  crush  the  spirit  of  nationalism 
with  every  instrument  which  science  can  devise 
and  brutality  apply.  Realizing  these  things, 
Venezelos  sought  to  bind  the  Balkan  States  to- 
gether once  again  and  to  reconstitute  the  League 
which  had  been  shattered  by  the  war  of  partition 
in  1913. 

Bulgaria,  of  course,  was  the  difficulty.  Fooled 
by  the  Central  Powers,  she  had  turned  against  her 
former  allies  and  had  lost  most  of  the  benefits 
which  she  had  sacrificed  so  much  to  obtain.  The 
question  was  whether  Bulgaria  could  be  brought 
back,  whether  by  gifts  she  could  be  persuaded 
to  return  to  the  old  allegiance.  Venezelos  did  his 
utmost  to  convince  both  Greece  and  Serbia  of  the 
necessity  of  making  concessions  to  Bulgaria.  The 
King  of  Greece  refused  to  listen  to  his  sugges- 
tions, and  he  resigned.  Not  until  it  was  too  late 
could  Serbia  be  persuaded  to  make  any  concessions, 
and  meanwhile  the  failure  at  Gallipoli  had  set  the 
enemy  free  to  work  in  another  direction,  and  had 
also  convinced  the  Bulgarian  leaders  that  the  Ger- 
man was  the  winning  side.  On  October  7  a  great 
army  under  von  Mackensen  crossed  the  Serbian 
frontier,  captured  Belgrade  on  October  9,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  sweep  the  country.     In  early  November 

208 


THE    BALKANS    AND    THE    WAR 

the  Bulgarian  army  captured  Nish,  and  by  the  end 
of  the  month  Serbia  had   ceased  to   exist. 

The  Allies  had  declared  their  intention  of  sup- 
porting Serbia,  but  their  help,  when  it  came,  was 
too  late  and  utterly  insufficient.  The  first  Anglo- 
French  troops  landed  at  Salonika  on  October  5, 
and  the  10th  Division  was  hurried  up-country.  It 
got  there  in  time  to  share  the  agonies  of  the  retreat 
when  the  Serbian  army,  broken  and  defeated,  was 
scattered  in  the  mountains.  All  that  the  Allies 
coud  do  was  to  occupy  the  territory  of  which  I 
have  told  in  the  first  part  of  this  book. 

I  do  not  pretend  to  be  giving  a  comprehensive 
review  of  the  almost  intolerable  complex  of  Balkan 
affairs  during  the  war,  and  I  am  not  going  to 
add  to  the  confusion  by  dealing  at  length  with 
Greek  affairs  during  the  months  of  which  I  have 
just  been  writing.  To  follow  all  the  threads  of 
the  story  of  the  Near  East  requires  a  pretty  stiff 
mental  eifort,  coupled  with  a  comprehensive  knowl- 
edge of  history  and  geography ;  and  all  that  can  be 
done  here  is  to  endeavor  to  give  the  broad  outlines 
in  a  form  in  which  they  can  be  followed  without 
too  much  exertion.  Leaving  out,  then,  the  ques- 
tions which  had  risen  between  King  Constantine 
and  M.  Venez'^los,  it  is  enough  to  say  that  the 
statesman  was  driven  into  exile,  and  that  the  King 
entered  into  a  secret  agreement  with  Germany 
and  Bulgaria,  in  consequence  of  which  Fort  Rupel 

20^ 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

was  handed  over  to  the  Bulgars  on  May  25,  1916. 
A  little  later  a  Greek  division  at  Kavalla  surren- 
dered and  was  taken  to  Germany.  At  last  the  fol- 
lowers of  M.  Venezelos  were  tormented  into  action 
and  in  September  a  Committee  on  National  De- 
fence was  set  up  at  Salonika. 

Meanwhile  Roumania  had  come  into  the  war.  It 
had  been  by  no  means  clear  in  the  beginning  which 
side  she  would  take,  but  since  the  Roumanians  are 
kin  to  the  people  of  Italy  it  was  guessed  that  they 
might  be  found  in  the  same  alliance,  especially  as 
the  Roumanians  desired  to  regain  Transylvania 
from  Austria.  Whether  or  not  the  time  of  the 
Roumanian  intervention  was  happily  chosen  is  a 
question  which  cannot  be  discussed  at  present.  It 
is  enough  to  record  the  fact  that  she  declared  war 
on  August  27,  1916,  and  her  armies  marched  into 
Transylvania,  with  considerable  success  at  first. 
But  Mackensen  invaded  the  Dobrudja  from  the 
south  and  von  Falkenheyn  came  in  from  the  west. 
At  the  end  of  November  the  armies  joined  and  on 
December  6  they  took  Bucharest,  and  another 
Balkan  state  had  been  wiped  off  the  map.  At  the 
end  of  1916  the  whole  of  the  Balkan  Peninsula 
was  in  German  hands  with  the  exception  of  Greece 
and  the  portion  of  Greek  Macedonia  which  is  oc- 
cupied by  the  Allied  forces.  The  friends  of  Ger- 
many in  Greece  grew  bolder  and  there  was  a  time 
when  it  seemed  quite  probable  that  that  country, 

210 


THE    BALKANS    AND    THE    WAR 


too,  would  come  in  on  the  side  of  the  Prussian. 
But  a  swift  and  happy  series  of  events  led  to  the 
abdication  of  the  pro-German  King  and  Queen  and 
the  return  to  power  of  M.  Venezelos,  and  there  are 
Greek  battalions  fighting  beside  our  own  in  Mace- 
donia today. 


'211 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   IMPORTANCE   OF   SALONIKA 

IF  you  were  to  put  the  phrase  which  I  have 
placed  at  the  head  of  this  chapter  before  any 
ordinary  member  of  the  Salonika  force  and  ask 
him  to  tell  you  all  about  it,  he  would  be  badly 
puzzled.  In  my  time — and  I  cannot  doubt  that 
it  is  the  same  today — it  did  not  occur  to  us  that 
we  were  important  or  that  our  remote  and  undis- 
tinguished occupations  had  anything  to  do  with 
the  war  of  which  we  read  in  the  papers  sent  out 
from  home.  When  I  came  back  and  people  asked 
me  what  we  were  doing  in  Salonika  it  was  hard 
to  find  any  satisfactory  answer  to  the  question. 
I  could  tell,  as  I  have  told  here,  of  the  making  of 
roads  and  of  the  enduring  of  various  discomforts, 
but  all  our  life  seemed  so  remote  from  war  as  it  is 
understood  in  France.  Really  it  did  not  seem  that 
we  were  doing  very  much,  or  that  we  were  likely 
to  do  anything.  We  were  giving  occupation  to  a 
certain  number  of  the  enemy,  and  that  was  the 
best  we  could  say  for  ourselves,  and  it  did  not 
appear  that  we  should  ever  be  able  to  say  any- 

212 


THE    IMPORTANCE   OF    SALONIKA 

thing  better.  We  understood  from  the  people  at 
home  that  we  were  expected  to  advance,  but  our 
knowledge  of  the  country  made  us  scornful  of  those 
suggestions.  It  was  the  old  story;  an  army  can- 
not live  without  its  transport  and  it  was  not  pos- 
sible to  believe  that  our  transport  could  stand  the 
strain  of  any  advance  that  would  be  of  practical 
value. 

Indeed,  you  could  not  expect  anyone  serving  in 
Salonika  to  have  any  great  ideas  of  the  possibilities 
of  the  campaign,  unless  he  happened  to  be  a  very 
exalted  person  on  the  staff.  Undoubtedly  opera- 
tions as  seen  by  the  man  who  plans  them  are 
strikingly  unlike  those  same  operations  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  man  who  carries  them  out, 
and  the  commanders  may  have  thought  it  possible 
for  us  to  do  all  sorts  of  enterprising  things.  But 
if  they  did,  they  did  not  order  us  to  do  them,  and 
we  continued  to  make  roads.  One  advance  was 
certainly  made,  and  in  the  summer  of  1916  the 
Serbians  were  able  to  recover  a  tiny  bit  of  their 
own  country  at  Monastir.  I  remember  that  about 
the  same  time  an  inspiring  story  was  circulated; 
it  was  said  that  General  Sarrail  had  been  inspect- 
ing the  enemy's  arrangements  on  the  whole  front 
from  an  aeroplane,  and  immediately  we  had  a 
whole  crop  of  cheering  rumors.  But  they  came  to 
nothing,  and  at  this  time  of  writing,  nearly  two 
years  later,  the  position  remains  very  much  what 

213 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

it  was  then,  with  the  exception  that  the  newspapers 
have  ceased  to  predict  an  advance  from  Salonika. 

Of  course  such  an  advance  could  be  made.  I 
can  see  that  now,  if  I  could  not  at  the  time.  The 
valley  of  the  Vardar  practically  runs  into  the 
valley  of  the  Morava  which  leads  on  to  Belgrade. 
Along  this  route  ran  the  Roman  road  from  Bel- 
grade to  Salonika  and  the  present  railway  follows 
the  same  course.  If  the  Bulgars — who  happen  to 
be  some  of  the  best  trench-diggers  on  earth — could 
be  pounded  out  of  their  positions,  if  we  could  get 
up  artillery  and  supplies  enough,  the  thing  could 
be  done.  I  know  that  since  I  left  the  country  the 
work  of  road-making  has  gone  forward  at  a  great 
rate  and  that  the  transport  problem  is  certainly  far 
less  serious  than  it  was  in  my  time.  Even  so,  of 
course,  we  should  meet  it  again  directly  we  had 
passed  beyond  the  zone  of  our  occupation,  and  it 
is  certain  that  the  railway  would  not  be  left  in 
condition  to  be  of  any  service,  but  no  one  can 
doubt  that,  given  adequate  force  and  arrangements 
for  supply,  the  adventure  could  be  as  successful  as 
was  the  Austrian  sweep  through   Serbia  in   1915. 

It  is  certain  that  the  enemy  must  realize  this 
fact  at  least  as  clearly  as  we  do,  and  that  realiza- 
tion must  compel  him  to  detach  a  considerable 
force  to  guard  the  front  which  we  are  holding. 
I  am  writing  at  a  time  when  tremendous  things 
are  happening  on  the  Western  front  and  no  one 

214 


THE    IMPORTANCE   OF    SALONIKA 

can  tell  what  the  position  will  be  at  the  end  of  a 
month  or  even  of  a  week,  and  it  is  not  possible 
to  say  what  will  have  happened  before  these  words 
are  in  print.  But  if  you  will  look  back  to  this 
first  week  of  April,  1918,  I  think  you  will  agree 
that  there  could  be  no  more  unpleasant  news  for 
the  enemy  at  this  time  than  that  of  a  powerful 
movement  northwards  from  Salonika.  I  do  not 
imagine  that  anything  of  the  kind  is  likely  to 
happen,  but  I  am  quite  sure  that  it  would  happen 
if  a  sufficiently  powerful  enemy  force  had  not  been 
left  to  make  any  such  experiment  unprofitable.  It 
is  no  small  part  of  the  art  of  war  to  keep  your 
foes  waiting  in  idleness  to  prevent  you  from  doing 
something  which  you  do  not  really  mean  to  attempt, 
and  I  am  beginning  to  suspect  that  from  this  point 
of  view  alone  the  Salonika  expedition  has  been 
justified — though  I  should  have  found  it  hard  to 
believe  anything  of  the  kind  when  I  was  serving 
in  the  profoundly  irritating  country  or  for  many 
months  after  I  returned. 

But  there  is  an  aspect  of  the  importance  of 
Salonika  which  is  political  rather  than  purely 
military.  In  parenthesis,  it  is  well  to  note  that 
our  original  landing  was  made  on  the  invitation 
of  M.  Venezelos.  Whether  or  not  the  idea  of  the 
landing  originated  with  the  great  statesman  it  is 
not  possible  to  say  at  present,  but  it  is  at  least 
probable,  and  it  is  quite  certain  that  later  fruits 

215 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

of  it  have  been  such  as  he  would  desire.  For  a 
long  time  it  did  not  appear  that  any  real  good 
was  to  result  from  the  adventure,  and  indeed  it 
caused  such  an  amount  of  irritation  in  Greece  as 
to  make  it  seem  a  mistake.  It  was,  too,  horribly 
costly,  especially  in  ships.  In  its  original  purpose, 
as  an  aid  to  Serbia,  it  was  a  ghastly  failure,  and 
as  a  part  of  the  world  campaign  against  Germany 
it  resembled,  in  1916,  nothing  so  much  as  a  spirited 
attempt  to  shoot  an  elephant  with  a  pop-gun.  But 
at  this  time  it  is  possible  to  see  another  and  greater 
justification  for  it  than  that  which  I  have  men- 
tioned. It  is  possible  to  realize  that  in  years  to 
come  it  may  appear  as  one  of  the  really  happy  in- 
spirations of  the  war. 

""^n  the  first  place,  our  occupation  provided  a 
foothold  for  the  remnants  of  the  Serbian  army  and 
a  starting-point  for  the  hopes  of  the  Serbian  people. 
If  we  had  not  been  there  it  is  hard  to  think  what 
would  have  become  of  those  fine  soldiers.  Scat- 
tered in  all  directions,  hunted  through  the  moun- 
tains of  Albania,  they  were  in  a  terrible  position. 
Even  Greece  was  not  open  to  them,  seeing  that 
the  King  of  Greece  had  dismissed  M.  Venezelos 
for  declaring  that  Greece  would  stand  by  her  treaty 
obligations  to  Serbia.  Without  organization,  almost 
without  arms,  they  could  only  have  remained  as 
fugitives,  scattered  and  useless  to  the  end  of  the 
war.     But  the  fact  that  their  allies  held  Salonika 

2l6 


THE    IMPORTANCE   OF    SALONIKA 

gave  them  another  chance,  and  they  were  quick 
to  take  it.  They  came  to  the  city  by  land  and 
sea.  They  were  equipped  and  their  army  was 
reconstituted  till  it  became  once  more  an  effective 
force.  And  in  Salonika  itself  there  was  no  more 
heartening  sight  than  that  of  those  Serbian  sol- 
diers with  their  new  uniforms  and  their  happy 
faces.  It  was  worth  while  just  to  have  given  them 
another  chance,  and  to  have  retained  for  their  na- 
tion a  foothold  on  the  peninsula. 

And  in  the  second  place  our  occupation  defeated!   o 
the  aims  of  the  pro-German  party  in  Greece.    Noth-) 
ing  but  our  presence  in  Macedonia  could  have  accom-  j 
plished  that.  The  Greek  Nationalists  made  Salonika^ 
their    headquarters    and    there    they    received    M. 
Venezelos  on  his  return  from  exile.     It  is  possible 
to  put  the  matter  in  another  way  and  say  that  if 
we  had  not  been  there  the  entire  peninsula  would 
have    been    under    German    control    by    this    time. 
Every  harbor  would  have  been  a  refuge  for  her 
ships  and  submarines,  and  the  whole  of  the  cam- 
paign in  Palestine  would  have  been  in  peril.    Aus- 
tria would  have  gained  that  which  she  desired  orig- 
inally  to  obtain,   and  hope   for   the   Balkan   races 
would  have  been  at  an  end. 

As  it  is  we  hold  a  position  which  is  a  perpetual 
menace  to  all  the  Eastern  operations  of  the  enemy. 
It  has  been  said  that  Constantinople,  Belgrade  and 
Salonika  are  the  three  keys  to  the   Balkans  and 

217 


/- 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

therefore  to  the  great  route  to  the  Persian  Gulf. 
While  we  hold  one  there  can  be  little  comfort  in 
the  possession  of  the  other  two.  Judged  by  the 
map,  our  occupation  of  Macedonia  may  seem  a 
small  affair,  but  it  is  so  utterly  important  as  the 
position  of  a  pawn  on  the  chess-board  which,  so 
long  as  it  remains,  forbids  the  progress  of  the 
more  majestic  pieces  and  has  power  to  destroy  even 
the  greatest  of  them.  It  has  a  moral  effect  which 
is  far  greater  than  the  material  inconvenience 
which  is  caused  to  our  foes,  and  it  is  possible  to 
imagine  what  an  amount  of  irritation  there  must 
be  to  the  German  High  Command  in  the  presence 
of  the  bit  of  occupied  and  fortified  territory  on 
their  flank.  For  such  a  base  is  very  much  like  a 
gun.  In  itself  it  is  small  and  of  little  importance, 
but  when  it  goes  off  it  has  a  disturbingly  long 
range.  And  there  is  something  else.  Our  con- 
tinued presence  in  Salonika  is  something  in  the 
nature  of  a  banner  to  all  the  Balkan  peoples.  It  is 
an  enduring  token  of  the  failure  of  the  Central 
Powers  to  reach  at  least  one  of  the  main  points  at 
which  they  are  aiming.  We  may  be  very  sure 
that  it  is  noted  in  Sofia,  and  it  is  necessary  to 
remember  that  Bulgaria  was  never  wholeheartedly 
in  favor  of  the  war.  To  Serbia  and  Roumania  it 
must  appear  as  one  little  ray  of  light  in  the  midst 
of  their  present  darkness,  and  there  must  be  many 
of  the  scattered  peoples  who  realize  that,  since  we 

218 


THE    IMPORTANCE    OF    SALONIKA 

remain,  the  Hun  is  not  yet  victorious,  neither  is 
all  hope  at  an  end  for  the  little  nations. 

I  am  thoroughly  aware  of  the  arguments  against 
the  expedition,  and  I  have  stated  quite  a  number 
of  them  myself  at  various  times.  I  know,  too,  that 
there  are  remarks  scattered  through  this  book 
which  may  seem  to  contradict  the  substance  of 
this  chapter,  but  I  have  let  them  stand.  They  rep- 
resent the  views  of  the  man  on  the  spot,  and  when 
they  were  written  they  appeared  to  be  true.  But 
at  this  time  it  is  quite  certain  that  in  spite  of  all 
these  things  which  can  be  urged  against  it,  the 
Salonika  adventure  is  more  than  justified. 


^21^ 


CHAPTER  IV; 

PEACE   IN   THE   BALKANS 

THERE  are  a  good  many  people  who,  irritated 
by  the  complexity  and  endless  complications 
of  Balkan  affairs,  are  accustomed  to  declare  that 
those  unhappy  nations  must  settle  their  quarrels 
among  themselves,  fighting,  if  need  be,  to  the  point 
of  mutual  extermination.  There  are  still  more 
who  cherish  a  comfortable  ignorance  of  the  whole 
business  and  ask  what  they  have  to  do  with  the 
squabbles  of  a  lot  of  half-educated  savages  three 
thousand  miles  away.  And  if  those  are  the  condi- 
tions in  England,  I  imagine  that  Americans  will  be 
still  more  inclined  to  regard  the  solution  of  the 
Balkan  problem  as  a  matter  with  which  they  can 
have  no  concern.  Yet  if  there  is  one  thing  which 
this  war  has  demonstrated  more  clearly  than  ar- 
other  it  is  that  the  peace  of  the  world  cannot  be 
secure  while  there  is  either  strife  or  the  occasion 
of  strife  in  the  Peninsula. 

I  have  attempted  to  show  that  the   real  cause 
of  this  was   the  Prussian  desire  to  dominate  the 

220 


PEACE     IN     THE     BALKANS 

East.  Through  the  Balkans  ran  the  old  trade 
routes  from  Europe  to  Asia.  To  a  certain  extent 
those  routes  were  neglected  during  the  period  of 
the  development  of  navigation,  but  the  laying  of 
the  first  mile  of  railway  foretold  their  reopening. 
As  land  transport  of  every  kind  becomes  swifter 
and  cheaper,  so  will  the  importance  of  the  old 
routes  increase,  and  the  way  that  runs  through 
Belgrade,  Nish,  Sofia,  and  Adrianople  must  increase 
and  not  decrease  in  importance.  It  is  certain  that 
at  the  end  of  the  war,  the  Central  Powers  will  be 
so  exhausted  that  they  will  be  in  no  condition  to 
enter  upon  fresh  adventures  for  a  generation  or 
more,  but  it  is  equally  certain  that  their  eyes  will 
be  turning  ever  in  the  same  direction.  It  is  no 
small  part  of  the  business  of  the  rest  of  us  to  make 
certain  that  meanwhile  there  shall  be  erected  across 
the  path  a  stable  barrier. 

And  there  is  something  more  than  this.  It  was 
declared  by  the  Allies  as  long  ago  as  December 
21,  1916,  that  "no  peace  is  possible  which  does  not 
secure  recognition  of  the  principle  of  nationahties 
and  of  the  free  existence  of  small  states."  It  is 
of  the  essence  of  our  aims  to  secure  freedom  for 
all  nations,  just  as  it  is  of  the  aim  of  the  Prussian 
to  Prussianize  all  that  he  can  conquer.  Before 
ever  the  war  began,  in  Poland  and  again  in  Alsace, 
the  Prussian  demonstrated  his  hatred  and  fear  of 
nationalism,  and  in  Belgium  and  Serbia  during  the 

221 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

war  he  has  insisted  again  on  his  determination  J:o 
tolerate  no  nationality  but  his  own.  If  he  had  his 
way  in  the  Balkans,  he  would  bring  them  all  under 
his  autocratic  rule;  if  the  Allies  are  at  all  lax  at 
the  conclusion  of  peace  he  v/ill  contrive  that  affairs 
of  the  peninsula  are  left  in  such  a  condition  that 
they  will  be  exposed  to  the  recurrence  of  internal 
strife  in  which,  as  in  1912  and  1913,  his  diplomacy 
will  have  a  chance  to  shape  affairs  according  to 
his  desires.  I  want  to  insist  as  strongly  as  possible 
that  we  shall  have  failed  in  our  aims  if  the  con- 
clusion of  peace  does  not  bring  justice  and  con- 
tent to  the  nation  of  the  Balkans.  We  shall  have 
come  short  of  the  thing  which  we  set  out  to  per- 
form, and  iri'jso  far  as  we  fail  in  this  area,  the  tri- 
umph will  remain  with  the  enemies  of  freedom. 

So  much  having  been  affirmed,  it  must  be  stated 
that  the  re-drawing  of  the  map  of  the  Balkans  is 
one  of  the  most  perplexing  tasks  which  anyone 
could  have  to  undertake,  and  it  is  likely  to  require 
all  the  tact  and  goodwill  of  all  concerned.  The 
difficulty  of  it  must  never  be  forgotten,  or  else 
we  shall  have  some  enthusiastic  fool  coming  for- 
ward with  a  ready-made  plan  and  persuading 
people  into  its  acceptance.  If  anything  is  to  be 
made  of  the  business,  all  the  obstacles  will  need 
to  be  frankly  and  fairly  faced.  Let  us  consider 
some  of  them. 

There    is   first   of   all    the    question   of   Turkey. 

222 


PEACE     IN     THE     BALKANS 

When  the  Turk  first  came  to  Europe,  and  in  those 
distant  days  which  saw  him  besieging  Vienna  while 
his  ships  ruled  the  Mediterranean,  he  was  a  men- 
ace. Since  that  time  and  through  all  the  centuries 
of  his  decline,  he  has  been  merely  a  nuisance,  but 
a  very  great  nuisance  indeed.  It  is  not  possible 
to  doubt  that  the  conclusion  of  peace  must  see  the 
end  of  his  rule  in  Europe.  He  has  no  sort  of 
claim  for  any  consideration,  and  he  must  go. 

The  case  of  the  Bulgar  is  very  difficult.  He 
was  in  the  land  before  the  Turk,  and  he  was  of 
those  who  preserved  their  nationality  through  the 
centuries  of  Turkish  rule,  nor  can  the  part  which 
he  played  in  1912  be  forgotten.  Duped  by  the 
Central  Powers  in  1913,  and  dragged  half-heartedly 
into  the  present  war,  he  is  more  to  be  pitied  than 
any  of  his  allies.  The  Bulgar  nation  has  as  secure 
a  right  to  a  place  in  the  peninsula  as  any  other 
and  any  peace  which  seeks  its  suppression  will  be 
falling  short  of  the  expressed  aims  of  those  who 
are  at  present  its  enemies.  With  the  King  of  Bul- 
garia there  may  be  an  account  to  settle,  but  with 
his  subjects  we  can  have  no  quarrel.  That  is  to 
say,  the  western  nations  must  and  will  desire  that 
Bulgaria  shall  be  treated  fairly. 

Whether  the  desire  will  be  immediately  echoed 
by  our  allies  who  are  his  neighbors  is  another 
matter.  War  leaves  ugly  scars  behind  it,  and  it 
is  certain  that  both  Serbia  and  Roumania  will  be 

22^ 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

cherishing  unpleasant  memories.  They  will  be 
blaming  Bulgaria  for  much  that  their  lands  have 
suffered  and  no  doubt  they  will  be  blaming  her 
justly.  Also  they  will  want  recompense  for  all 
that  they  have  endured,  and  the  fact  that  their 
desires  coincide  with  so  many  of  Bulgaria's  will 
help  to  complicate  matters.  At  this  time  of  writ- 
ing, for  instance,  Bulgaria  is  in  possession  of  the 
Dobrudja  and  it  is  not  in  the  least  likely  that  she 
will  be  happy  to  restore  that  district  to  Roumania. 
There  must,  too,  be  disagreement  over  the  Aegean 
coast  which  will  bring  her  into  opposition  with 
Serbia;  and  Macedonia  remains  the  problem  which 
it  has  always  been. 

The  position  of  Serbia  is,  indeed,  one  of  peculiar 
difficulty.  She  desires  an  outlet  to  the  coast,  and 
her  desires  in  that  direction  are  counter  to  those  of 
many  other  people,  and  complicated  by  ths  facts 
of  the  stubborn  Balkan  geography.  It  generally 
happens  that  races  regard  geographical  boundaries, 
but  the  Balkan  people  seem  to  have  looked  upon 
natural  obstacles  as  things  to  be  surmounted,  and 
that  habit  has  helped  to  increase  the  difficulty  of 
defining  boundaries.  There  is,  however,  one  natural 
outlet  for  Serbia  by  way  of  the  Drin  valley  to  the 
Adriatic.  Her  only  other  obvious  road  to  the  sea 
is  by  way  of  the  Vardar  to  Salonika.  When  it  is 
remembered  that  Italy  has  a  claim  to  the  Adriatic 
coast  and  that  Greece  holds  Salonika,  the  coming 

224. 


PEACE     IN     THE     BALKANS 

need  for  forbearance  and  a  spirit  of  mutual  accomo- 
dation will  be  obvious. 

These  are  just  specimens  of  the  difficulties  which 
must  be  dealt  with,  and  there  are  many  more  of 
the  same  nature.  They  are  not  insuperable,  but 
they  will  call  for  the  most  careful  application  of 
the  principles  of  justice,  and  for  something  more. 

There  is,  again,  the  question  of  those  districts 
which  are  at  present  under  rule  of  Austria.  Serbia 
has  an  ethnographic  claim  to  Bosnia  and  Herzego- 
vina, and  Roumania  a  similar  claim  to  Transylvania. 
The  recognition  of  the  principle  of  nationality  cer- 
tainly points  to  the  restoration  of  these  areas,  and 
in  the  same  way  Roumania  should  receive  Bessar- 
abia which  was  before  the  war  in  the  possession 
of  Russia.  That,  of  course,  raises  an  entirely  fresh 
series  of  problems.  All  the  time  that  she  remained 
a  normal  Power,  Russia  was  intensely  interested 
in  the  Balkans.  It  is  impossible  to  say  whether 
or  not  she  will  have  regained  anything  that  can 
be  recognized  as  a  government  by  the  end  of  the 
war,  and  it  is  as  obviously  impossible  to  conclude 
any  treaties  or  enter  into  any  agreements  with 
any  of  the  hectic  individuals  who  are  shouting  their 
claims  to  speak  for  her  at  present.  I  am  uncom- 
monly glad  that  the  requirements  of  this  book  do 
not  make  it  necessary  to  produce  any  suggestions 
as  to  the  future  of  Russia,  but  the  fact  that  Russia 
may  presently  become  a  nation  again  must  be  re- 

225 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    TI^E    BALKANS 

membered  and  arranged  for  in  any  settling  of 
Balkan  affairs.  It  does  not  seem  unreasonable  in 
any  event  to  suggest  that  Bessarabia  should  be 
attached  to  Roumania,  and  it  might  make  matters 
easier  in  other  directions. 

The  old  Russia,  of  course,  would  have  been 
thinking  hard  about  Constantinople.  That  city  is 
also  the  home  of  a  dream  of  the  Greeks  who  have 
desired  for  a  long  time  to  see  it  restored  to  them 
as  the  old  capital  of  their  empire  and  the  ancient 
dwelling  place  of  the  ruler  of  the  Greek  church. 
But  the  way  for  Constantinople,  the  Bosphorus  and 
the  Dardanelles  seems  to  be  that  they  should  be 
internationalized  and  that  the  forts  should  be  dis- 
mantled, in  fairness  to  Russia  as  to  all  the  other 
nations  which  may  need  to  use  them.  And  I  am 
not  sure  that  Salonika  should  not  be  internation- 
alized as  well. 

I  put  this  forward  merely  as  a  suggestion,  and  I 
am  perfectly  aware  that  to  many  people — and  espe- 
cially to  the  Greeks — it  will  be  an  unpleasant  sug- 
gestion. But  it  is  an  idea  which  has  several  advan- 
tages. The  area  which  is  at  present  occupied  by 
the  Allied  armies,  bounded  roughly  by  the  Vardar, 
the  Bela  Sitza  mountains  and  the  Strama  is  as 
hopeless  a  tangle  ethnologically  as  you  will  find 
in  all  Macedonia.  All  the  races  of  the  Peninsula 
are  to  be  found  in  its  villages,  scattered  about  its 
plain  or  clustering  in  its  hills.     If  that  area  were 

226 


PEACE     IN     THE     BALKANS 

put  under  international  control  there  would  at 
least  be  no  violation  of  any  clearly-defined  national 
rights. 

It  is  from  Salonika  that  the  work  of  reconstruc- 
tion in  the  Balkans  will  be  most  easily  begun.  If 
our  occupation  had  done  nothing  else  at  all,  the 
roads  which  we  have  made  would  remain  to  be  our 
memorial.  Through  the  months  and  the  years  our 
men  have  been  at  work  they  have  made  a  system 
of  roads  through  all  the  area,  and  from  that  center 
the  roads  can  be  extended  in  all  directions.  We 
have  given  the  framework  of  civilization  to  a  con- 
siderable space  of  country  and  from  Salonika,  as 
from  the  handle  of  a  fan,  the  framework  could 
stretch  out   in   all   directions. 

It  is  true,  of  course,  that  the  Macedonian  of 
today  dislikes  our  roads.  The  bullocks  which  crawl 
along  with  his  queer  little  creaking  wagons  go  with 
unshod  feet  and  the  wagons  themselves  have 
wheels  with  wooden  tires.  For  centuries  his  roads 
consisted  merely  of  tracks  of  beaten  earth,  soft 
underfoot.  Our  roads  have  their  foundation  of 
rock  and  their  layer  of  broken  stone,  and  they  are 
too  hard  for  the  feet  of  his  cattle  or  for  his  wheels. 
The  consequence  is  that  instead  of  using  our  roads 
the  natives  commonly  make  for  themselves  a  track 
beside  them,  and  they  will  go  any  reasonable  dis- 
tance out  of  their  way  to  avoid  using  the  roads. 
But  it  is  merely  a  matter  of  custom  and  custom 

227 


CAMPAIGNING    IN    THE    BALKANS 

gives  way  in  time  to  advantage.  If  the  Mace- 
donian found  that  it  was  profitable  to  carry  his 
goods  about  at  a  slightly  swifter  rate  than  his 
present  mile  and  a  half  an  hour  it  is  not  to  be 
doubted  that  he  would  adopt  iron  tires  and  more 
expeditious  cattle,  and  thus  would  discover  the 
advantage  of  our  roads.  And  once  a  habit  of  that 
kind  is  formed  it  spreads  very  rapidly. 

All  the  country  has  such  great  possibilities.  I 
can  only  speak  from  experience  of  that  part  of  it 
which  the  Allied  forces  are  holding,  but  I  know 
that  there  are  great  fertile  tracts  all  through  the 
peninsula  and  all  of  its  nations  might  be  happy  and 
prosperous  and  of  service  to  the  world.  All  that 
is  required  is  a  secure  peace,  and  equitable  govern- 
ment, and  organization  of  the  means  of  transport. 
And  we  have,  as  I  have  said,  the  beginning  of  this 
last  in  that  area  which  is  so  intimately  known  to 
so  many  of  our  men  at  this  time.  With  Salonika 
held  as  an  international  port  it  would  be  free  for 
Serbia  and  Bulgaria  and  Greece  to  use  its  harbor 
and  there  would  be  no  more  jealousy  over  its  pos- 
session. The  borders  of  these  nations  would  touch 
the  borders  of  the  town  and  by  rail  and  by  road 
their  merchandise  could  come  down  to  it  from  far 
inland,  and,  rebuilt  after  the  cleansing  of  the  fire 
which  destroyed  so  much  of  it  in  1917,  it  may 
stand  greater  and  more  prosperous  than  ever, 
serving  three  nations  instead  of  one. 

228 


PEACE     IN     THE     BALKANS 

So  there  is  a  suggestion ;  doubtless  there  will  be 
many  others.  But  when  the  time  comes  for  the 
new  boundaries  to  be  defined  it  will  be  necessary 
for  the  great  Powers  to  avoid  too  much  interfer- 
ence, and  especially  to  see  that  there  is  no  attempt 
to  exploit  the  differences  of  opinion  which  are 
quite  certain  to  arise.  It  will  be  for  them  to  stand 
aside  as  far  as  possible,  watching  all  the  time  to 
see  that  there  is  no  unfairness,  but  giving  to  the 
peoples  concerned  as  free  a  hand  as  possible.  With 
care  and  patience  and  wise  guidance  where  it  is 
needed  the  Balkan  states  will  come  to  an  agree- 
ment at  the  last. 

When  it  is  reached,  that  agreement  must  be 
guaranteed  by  the  nations  of  the  world.  It  will 
not  be  enough  to  leave  their  interests  in  the  future 
as  they  have  been  left  in  the  past  in  the  hands  of 
such  immediately  interested  parties  as  Austria  and 
Russia.  The  preservation  of  their  integrity  must 
be  the  business  of  all  of  us,  of  America  as  well  as 
of  England,  France  and  Italy.  This  is  the  greatest 
opportunity  there  has  ever  been  for  solving  the 
problem,  and  when  the  solution  is  found  we  cannot 
afford  to  run  the  risk  that  any  malice  or  greed 
or  envy  of  the  future  shall  be  able  to  destroy  it. 

THE    END 


How  five  thousand  men  founded  a  Brit- 
ish community  in  the  heart  of  Germany. 

INTERNED  IN  GERMANY 

By  H.  C.  MAHONEY 

^go  pages.    Illustrated.    $2.00  net. 


IF  you  would  know  what  life  at  a  German 
prison  camp  is  like,  live  through  it  in  this 
book.  The  author,  a  British  civilian,  was 
a  guest  at  four,  ending  up  with  a  long  sojourn 
at  the  notorious  Ruhleben.  Here  is  the  story 
of  the  life  that  he  and  his  fellow-prisoners 
lived;  how  they  organized  their  own  com- 
munity life,  and  established  stores,  banks, 
churches,  theatres — in  fact  all  the  appurten- 
ances of  civilized  life.  There  are  also  numer- 
ous stories  of  escapes,  of  adventures  in  the 
camp  and  even  of  the  treachery  of  some  of 
their  pro-German   fellow-prisoners. 

The  book  shows  a  side  of  the  war  which 
has  not  previously  been  dealt  with  in  full 
detail,  and  it  is,  besides,  an  unusual  record  of 
hardship  and  suffering  and  of  the  many  ways 
in  which  the  indomitable  spirit  of  these  men 
rose  above  the  trials  of  prison  life. 

Publishers,  Robert  M.  McBride  &  Co.,  New  York 


300  Padres  of  Ezcitins       vHb-^^^^B  ^  ^^  Great  Game 

Adventure  J        ^^^Hf  «>'  Empire! 


MY  ADVENTURES  AS  A  GERMAN 
SECRET  AGENT 

By  CAPTAIN  HORST  VON  DER  GOLTZ 

With  i6  pages  of  illustrations. 
$1.^0  net.  Postage  15  cents. 

FOR  ten  years  Captain  von  der  Goltz  was  a 
secret  agent  of  Imperial  Germany.  In  this 
remarkable  book  he  tells  the  story  of  his 
career,  from  the  time  he  was  plunged  into  the 
whirlpool  of  secret  diplomacy  until  the  day  in  1916 
when  he  was  released  from  a  British  prison  and 
sent  to  testify  in  the  trials  of  various  German  con- 
spirators against  the  United  States.  There  are 
twelve  chapters,  each  one  filled  with  incidents  as 
dramatic  as  any  in  romance,  some  of  them  thrilling, 
some  amusing,  many  of  them  momentous,  but  all  of 
them  full  of  the  fascination  of  real  adventure. 

What  This  Book  Tells 

Ten    years    of    German    intrigue    in    the    United    States. 

How     the     German     Government     betrayed     the     German 

Americans. 

The   real    reason   why   Germany  made   trouble   in   Mexico. 

The   German   Spy   System  in   the  United  States  and  how 

to    cope    with    it. 

Other     startling     revelations    of    the     secret     history     of 

today. 

Publishers,  Robert  M.  McBride  &  Co.,  New  York 


"NOTHING  OF  MPORTANCr 

By  BERNARD  ADAMS 

334  pages.    With  maps.    $1.50  net. 


4  4^TOTHING  of  Importance"  say  the 
I  ^y  communiques  when  there  is  no  big 
action  to  report.  Lieut.  Adams  has 
taken  this  phrase  as  a  title  for  the  series  of 
swift,  vivid  impressions  which  compose  his 
book;  his  chapters,  with  their  glimpses  of 
scenes  in  billets,  in  the  trenches,  of  snipers, 
working  parties  and  patrols,  bring  the  reader 
more  clearly  in  touch  with  the  reality  of  war- 
fare than  do  many  more   spectacular  books. 

"Few,  very  few  books  have  come  out  of 
the  war  more  real  in  their  message  or  more 
poignant  in  their  appeal." — The  Cleveland  Plain 
Dealer. 

"Of  the  scores  of  books  which  are  pushing 
their  way  into  print  nowadays  as  part  of  the 
war  propaganda,  none  more  truthfully  and 
satisfactorily  fulfills  its  mission  than  'Nothing 
of  Importance'." — The  Springfield  Union. 


Publishers,  Robert  M.  McBride  &  Co.,  New  York 


The  Red  Battle  Flyer 

By 

CAPTAIN  MANFRED  VON  RICHTHOFEN 


12  mo.    Illustrated.    $1.25  net.    Postage  extra. 
At  all  Bookstores 

By   Captain    Manfred    von    Richthofen 

THE  most  famous  of  German  aviators  was 
Freiherr  von  Richthofen  who  was  killed  in 
action  in  April  of  this  year,  after  being 
credited  with  eighty  aerial  victories. 
This  book  is  the  story  of  this  German's  ex- 
ploits and  adventures  told  in  his  own  words.  It 
is  the  story  of  countless  thrilling  battles  in  the 
air,  of  raids,  and  of  acts  of  daring  by  the  flying 
men  of  both  sides. 

"Richthofen's  Flying  Circus"  has  become  fa- 
mous in  the  annals  of  aerial  warfare.  This  book 
tells  how  the  "Circus"  was  formed  and  of  the  ad- 
ventures  in   which   its   members  participated. 

"The  Red  Battle  Flyer"  is  offered  to  the  Ameri- 
can public,  not  as  a  glorification  of  German  achieve- 
ments in  the  war,  but  as  a  record  of  air  fighting 
which,  because  of  its  authorship  and  of  the  in- 
sight it  gives  into  the  enemy  airman's  mind,  will 
prove  of  interest  and  value  to  our  own  flyers  as 
well  as  to  readers  generally. 


Publishers,  Robert  M.  McBride  &  Co.,  New  York 


WILHELM  HOHENZOLLERN  &  CO. 

By  EDWARD  LYELL  FOX 

^27  pages.    Illustrated.    $1.50  net, 
A  striking  account  of  Germany  as  it  is  today,  by  a 
former   war-correspondent,   now   Captain   of    Field 
Artillery  in  the  National  Army. 

"It  appears  to  me  that  you  have  been  strikingly 
fair  and  just  in  your  estimation  of  Germany's  case 
and  have  put  your  finger  upon  the  real  issue, 
namely,  her  system  of  government  with  its  false 
ideals  ....  your  book  is  interesting  at  this  time 
and  should  be  illuminating  to  all  serious  minded 
people."  Major  General  Joseph  E.  Kuhn,  Military 
Attache  to  Germany,  1915-16,  formerly  President  of 
the  Army  War  College. 

HISTORICAL    BACKGROUNDS    OF 
THE  GREAT  WAR 

By  FRANK  J.  ADKINS 

2p2  pages.    $1.25  net, 

A  study  of  the  origins  and  causes  of  the  Euro- 
pean war. 

"The  book  as  a  whole  is  a  singularly  just  presen- 
tation of  the  sweep  of  the  main  currents  of  Euro- 
pean history  for  practically  one  thousand  years, 
and  it  is  written  in  a  style  that  draws  one  on  in  his 
reading  from   page   to   page." — Philadelphia  Record. 

THE  STORY  OF  YPRES 

By   HUGH   B.  C.  POLLARD 

118  pages.     Illustrated,     y^c.  net. 

The  heroic  story  of  Ypres,  storm-center  of  the 
Western  Front. 

Publishers,  Robert  M.  McBride  &  Co.,  New  York 


^^^ 


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